


Lifeboat

by Indigoidiot, TheObnoxiousWindFish



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Persona 5 Spoilers, Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2020-11-22 05:30:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20868968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indigoidiot/pseuds/Indigoidiot, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheObnoxiousWindFish/pseuds/TheObnoxiousWindFish
Summary: When Morgana abandons the Phantom Thieves after an argument, Ryuji wonders who the team truly believes is useless. Tensions are high as Ryuji's recently regained confidence hits rock bottom, as well as his choice in solace from it all, Detective Prince Goro Akechi.





	1. Supper

“Harajuku Station - This... is Harajuku Station.”

Ryuji squeezed through the still opening train doors with a shaky step. His heels get scuffed by passerby that also tried pushing out of the cramped iron box of the train, which only pissed him off more.

‘Go look for Morgana’ was the only phrase going through his mind; if he recalled correctly, it had been Ann who ordered him to do it. That damn cat ran away yesterday and the group chat hadn't shut up about it since - 'Morgana this' and 'Mona that'. When he wasn’t in school, the team wanted all hands finding and bringing Morgana back home. The stress left him drained, so he decided to cut the search short and head out for dinner instead. He deserved a treat, after all, considering the shit the cat put him through. He might as well get something actually good instead; hell, he might even bring leftovers for his mom.

He dragged his feet due to exhaustion, scraping the pavement every few steps until he arrived at the restaurant he had in mind - ‘Incroyable’. It’s a Harajuku french restaurant that Ann dragged him and Akira to before. The place boasted authentic French food at a ‘reasonable’ price. While he couldn’t account for it being authentic, Ryuji liked what he got last time - Akira translated the name for him. It was something called... Pepper steak? Ryuji couldn’t remember, but it was delicious. It was cheap for being what Akira said was an expensive cut of steak, anyway. Ann got some fancy, French cream soda that he managed to sneak a sip of when she wasn’t looking. He’s been craving some since, and his mouth waters at the thought of a nice, juicy hunk of meat and a sweet (but not too sweet) soda.

However, Ryuji’s jaw hit the floor when he finally got there. The line was MASSIVE! Flustered, he checks the time on his phone and compares it with the happy hour sign, his face fell. He groans internally as he realizes the sad truth - Happy hour. There went his hopes of a nice dinner. On second thought, ten at night was pretty damn late for happy hour… but he didn’t dwell on it too much. Maybe it was a French thing?

With a defeated sigh and slumped shoulders, Ryuji takes his place at the end of the line, hoping this trip wouldn’t end in misery much like many of his other ventures did lately.

“Omg! Look! It’s him!” One girl squealed, taking out her phone.  
“He’s just as pretty in person as on TV...” Squeaked another. “Not every day that you get to see the Detective Prince!”

_ ‘Shit.’ _Ryuji mutters to himself, instantly knowing who it was.

_ Yo, it’s THIS asshole again… Let’s clean his clock and be DONE with it! _

Ryuji glares up in time to get an eyeful of Goro Akechi. Smug, uptight, pretty boy Goro Akechi, King of Assholes. Even more unfortunately, while Akechi was interacting with his fans, they happened to look at each other. Ugh, interaction with Goro.

“Oh! Sakamoto-kun! It’s a pleasure to see you here!” Akechi greets with a polite smile. Ryuji rolled his eyes at how the girls in line would swoon at whatever Akechi seemed to be doing at the moment.

'Pretentious ass' Ryuji internally comments, rather pleased when he hears Seiten Taisei laugh.

"Hey, Akechi. What are ya doin' here?" Ryuji asked, already deciding that he didn’t care enough to get a reply.

"Oh, I came for dinner. Appetizers are free during happy hour, but the line always goes out the door..." Akechi pulls his sleeve up to check his watch. "I usually come here every two weeks to try a new crepe. They change the dessert menu around every month too, so it’s never the same selection twice.”

Ryuji sighed, stuffing his hands into his pants pockets with a roll of his eyes. “Yeah, well… get in line, I guess. Pretty sure you’re not gettin’ in before the hour ends.”

“Oh… I made a reservation.” Akechi hummed, with an all-knowing smile that pissed off Ryuji. Though, it might just be the fact Akechi just showed him up by appearing to a crowded restaurant with an instant ticket inside just so he could eat at some big fancy table and spend all his money on frivolous stupid swe-

“Would you like to join me, Sakamoto-kun?”

“Huh?” Ryuji must have looked stupid in that moment, because Akechi gave a little snicker to his reaction. Akechi pulled his phone from his pocket, quickly checking something on it before putting it away again.

“Would you like to join? I couldn’t get a single seat to myself this evening, and it seems to be a waste of a perfectly good table.” Akechi tilted his head to the side, reminding Ryuji of a puppy begging for its way.

_ Up to you, bro. Ya ‘true’ self says fuck that noise though. _

Ryuji’s stomach growled audibly. If he took it, it means he had to look Akechi’s stupid face and his dumb hairstyle the whole time. But... He noticed the girls from earlier mumbling to each other, probably something about how they want Akechi to take them to dinner. Ryuji figured it was at no loss to him, aside from being forced to sit across some dickhead he didn’t even like.

“Sure. Fine.” Ryuji shrugs, but his entire demeanor changes as he squints at Akechi. “But I’m paying for my own food, got it?” Ryuji growls.. He wasn’t in the mood to enter his Akechi hating stance, because he was tired from searching for a cat he barely wanted to find. Akechi’s face brightened even more, before gesturing to Ryuji.

“Great! Come with me, I’ll sign in for us.” Akechi led the way, excusing himself past a couple that was occupying the doorway. Ryuji followed, apologizing for pushing through the line after the fact. 

* * *

“Have you tried the cream soda?” Akechi asked Ryuji, who had his nose in a menu. Ryuji did as much as he could to avoid even looking at the guy that got him in this place. He gives an affirmative nod, looking for the steak he wants. However...

“Where’s the pepper steak?” Ryuji grumbles, running his hands through his hair and messing it up. Akechi put his hand to his chin, frowning slightly in thought.

“Pepper steak?” He asked. “I’m… not aware of an item with that name.”

“No, that’s not the name… it’s like the translation of what it is? I dunno, all I remember is that a friend said it’s steak with pepper on it... these damn menus ain’t helpin’, either...” Ryuji sighed, closing the menu in defeat. Akechi hummed, opening his own menu and flipping through while Ryuji looked around for their waiter.

“Steak au poivre?” Akechi offered. Ryuji could have sworn he misheard the guy. Were those even words…?

“Steak ow pwah?” Ryuji questioned, hands in his pockets again with his leg resting on his chair. Akechi laughed.

“No no Sakamoto-kun. It’s pronounced steak au poivre. It’s a steak that they make by grinding peppercorns and cooking the meat in it.”

_ … We knew that. Totally. … Whatever! We learned somethin’, so what! _

‘He doesn’t gotta be a smartass about it, though.’ Ryuji mentally agrees.

“Er... Thanks.” Ryuji replied, opening the menu again and looking for the same menu item Akechi told him about. He read over the name a few times, squinting at the spelling.

“The hell, man...? Why do they spell it like that...?” Ryuji grumbles, then slumps in his chair. He earns a look of faked concern from Akechi, who took a sip from his water cup before putting it back down and balancing his chin on his arms.

“You seem frustrated. Bad day at school?” Akechi breaks the mildly awkward silence, and Ryuji wanted so badly to scoff and brush him off. His momma taught him better, though, and even if he hated everything about Goro Akechi and all stood for, he deserved at least some modicum of respect. Not that Ryuji wanted to pay said respect to him.  
  
“Had a... falling out with a friend.” He finally admits, hoping Akechi wouldn’t inquire further. Ryuji can only blame himself - of course the detective is going to pry if there’s a mystery to solve. Damnit.

“Oh? Is that why I’ve been seeing you, Kurusu-kun, and Takamaki-san running around town lately? Are you looking for that friend?” Akechi prods.

“What, are you stalking us or something?” Ryuji snaps, quick to try and defend himself and his friends.

“Not stalking. Just... noticing. I happened to run into Niijima-chan last night while walking home. She seemed to be in a rush, as if she was looking for something.” Akechi responds.

“Look, dude. I… really don’t wanna go into this. I get that you’re just tryin to help but…”

“Oh, yes, of course! I apologize for prodding too much, Sakamoto-kun. You’re probably tired.” 

_ ‘Bout time he backed off. _

“Hell yeah I am.” Ryuji sighs, closing his menu one last time and putting his elbows on the table, using one hand to hold his head up. He stares at Akechi like he’s trying to decide if he wants to bail or not, seeing as the interior of this place didn’t… quite favor his aesthetic. Too pretentious. Akechi had put down his menu as well, threading his fingers together and politely smiling at Ryuji. The waiter eventually came over, bowing to the two boys before asking for their drink orders.

“I’ll take a vanilla cream soda.” Ryuji orders.

“And I’ll have a mint lemon soda.” Akechi adds. The waiter gives an ecstatic smile and makes for the kitchen.

“I wasn’t aware that you’re the type for sweets.” Akechi says, obviously trying to start a conversation and dispel the awkward atmosphere between them. Ryuji went along with it, despite feeling a bit of stress start to manifest as a headache - from Morgana or Akechi, he didn’t know.

“I’m not. I just drank some of Ann’s when I was here last time and I liked it. Wanted some for myself.”

Akechi nods, looking deep in thought, then starts again. “If sweetness isn’t your kind of thing, I would suggest getting what I just got.”

“But you’re the king of sweets, ain’t ya? Should I really be askin’ you on what’s not as sweet?” Ryuji jokes, not thinking too much of it… and being pleasantly surprised when Akechi actually laughs a little instead of his typical snicker.  
  
“I suppose you’re right…!” Akechi managed between chuckles. “King of sweets, eh? Perhaps I should post that.” 

He pulled out his phone, already taking a moment to type out a post for his food blog - the one Futaba told him and the other Thieves about. To Ryuji’s surprise, a notification went off within ear shot - was Akechi so popular people had notifications for when he updated his blog? … Okay, maybe it was unrelated, but Ryuji wouldn’t put it past the super fans. Ryuji remembers Ann singing praises of Akechi’s taste in sweets when Futaba showed them the blog, saying that she’d been to a lot of those places and adored what they offered. Ryuji, on the other hand... didn’t trust her word, knowing from just being around her in middle school that Ann loved those kinds of sweets that had such intense flavor and were so chock full of sweetness that just smelling some of those dishes makes your stomach ache.

“I do mean it, though.” Akechi continued, making one final swipe on his phone before placing it face down on the table to resume his conversation with Ryuji. “Mint and lemon does wonders for clearing your palate, especially in a carbonated form. I recently started ordering lemon soda with my desserts instead of water, or my usual cherry soda, and it’s allowed me to enjoy the flavors to a much greater degree.”

_ … You gettin’ any of this? Cause I ain’t. _

‘Dude, I have no damn clue.’ Ryuji responds, catching himself before he actually shrugs in person to respond to his persona..

“Yeah, that’s… uh, cool. Yeah.” He stammered. The conversation dies there, and Ryuji feels the awkward aura quickly overtaking the table. 

Either Ryuji hadn’t been paying too much attention or their waiter was a master assassin of some sort, because he came out of seemingly nowhere carrying two fancy cups on fancy restaurant coasters with fancy fruit skewers in each glass. Fancy. He placed them on the table with barely even a sound and took out a small notebook.

“What will you be having today, sir?” The waiter asked, voice gentle, yet still intimidating. Ryuji was taken a bit off guard by how fast everything had been done, which caused him to look like a fool and he attempted to mentally catch up and realize the waiter was talking to him first. “... Oh! Uh…” 

_ Steak au Poivre, bro. Oh pu-waaaa-ve. Like that! _

“St-steak ow pov…” Ryuji stammers, embarrassed that he can’t say it right. There’s a bit more gentle encouragement from Seiten, but it still wasn’t even close. Despite his butchering of the pronunciation, however, the waiter nods and turns to Akechi.

“I’ll have the shrimp francese, with tomato and arugula. Oh, and can you please bring me the dessert menu if you can?” Akechi orders, smiling his stupid celebrity smile the entire time. The waiter gave a similar smile and disappeared, only to return in no time with a pink and purple menu stuffed with pictures of crepes and cakes. Ryuji mentally groaned before reaching for his glass, specifically the skewer decorated with lime and lemon pieces, as well as the paper thin lime decorating the rim.  
  
“Ah, Sakamoto-kun!” Akechi speaks suddenly, forcing Ryuji to jerk his hand back.

“Wh-what?!” He blurts, possibly a bit too loud considering the looks he was getting. However, Akechi continues.

“Sorry for startling you but…” He picks up his phone and readies it in his leather gloved hands.  
  
“Would you mind too terribly if I took a photo of your drink? For my blog, I mean.”

Ryuji raised an eyebrow, processing the thought, before rolling his eyes with an over dramatic sigh and allowing Akechi his photo. “Sure, whatever. Make it quick.”  
  
Akechi nods with a grin and began the process of angling his phone just right. Ryuji watches this go on for a few moments, almost finding it kinda funny how Akechi needed to move around to get the photo he wanted. The whole dilemma reminded Ryuji when Yusuke requested for him to pose for drawings, the way he would swap between fidgeting around for the “perfect angle”, only to freeze before breaking into motion once again - so he could “refine the smaller details” - whatever the hell any of that meant. Still, Yusuke wanting him for posing was … nice, in a way. Made him feel useful. Speaking of useful, though, Ryuji decides to check the group chat, despite really feeling like he shouldn’t.

It started with Futaba’s text bubble typing.

**Futaba: Did you guys find him yet???**

**Akira: Haven’t seen him.**

**Yusuke: He truly hasn’t returned to the two of you yet?**

**Makoto: It seems that he’s really run away…**

**Futaba: No…**

**Akira: I’m sure everything will be alright.**

**Akira: We’ll find him Futaba. **

**Ann: And we’ll apologize. Right Ryuji?**

**Yusuke: Is it truly Ryuji’s fault?**

**Makoto: Morgana did seem rather upset with Ryuji in particular.**

**Ann: Ryuji, what did you say to him??**

**Ann: Ryuji???**

**Akira: He’s probably busy looking for Morgana.**

**Futaba: Unlikely. He’s in Harajuku.**

Ryuji blinked. How did she- oh. yeah.

**Futaba: I can check where everybody is. He didn’t turn off his location either so honestly he’s asking to get hacked.**

Ryuji started typing.

**Ryuji: dude, creepy.**

**Futaba: ANYWAY!!! Why are you eating at a fancy crepe restaurant when Mona is missing!!!**

**Ann: Is he at Incroyable? Seriously?**

**Ann: Ryuji I told you I would go with you again when Shiho was back in town!**

**Ryuji: sorry! I was hungry and I’ve been running around tokyo all damn day!**

**Futaba: No excuses! Back to the search!**

**Ryuji: i didn’t get to eat yet, hold on!**

**Makoto: You should be helping with the search Ryuji, not eating in a restaurant while we fix this.**

**Ryuji: you’re all acting like I didn’t even bother lookin!**

**Yusuke: I can confirm that he was indeed searching. We both surveyed the train station and Shibuya Plaza for Morgana and found nothing. It was around the time my school releases.**

**Yusuke: We separated not long after, I went to Yongen to assist Ann while he left to check Aoyama-Itchome.**

**Futaba: Where could Mona be…..**

**Makoto: Akira, is there anywhere you can think of that Morgana would go?**

**Akira: Aside from the Metaverse or Okumura’s palace, not really.**

**Ann: Then that’s where we’ll check tomorrow!**

**Makoto: I suggest we all retire for the night, I do agree with Ryuji in that we need to take breaks and not run ourselves ragged searching. Tokyo is a large place with even more places for a cat like Morgana to hide in.**

**Makoto: Tomorrow is a day off, so let's all meet in front of the Okumura foods building tomorrow at 12 AM.**

“Sakamoto-kun.”

Ryuji flinched. He jams his phone in his pocket to see Akechi resting his gloved hand on his own phone, wearing a concerned expression..

“Yeah, yeah… what…?” Ryuji asked. Akechi’s wide eyes mellowed upon meeting with Ryuji’s own.

“Sakamoto-kun, are… Are you sure that you’re alright?” Akechi’s brows creased, dipping with concern. Ryuji remained silent, but wary.

“S-sorry. I’m … in a chat with some friends. They’re talking about the fall out.” Ryuji did his best to end it there, make it sound like he didn’t want to talk about it, hoping Akechi would get the idea and not ask. It was admittedly a rather private matter that should have been kept as a Phantom Thieves exclusive, after all. But at the same time… he wanted to let it out to somebody, and clearly none of the Phantom Thieves were interested in hearing him out. As much as Ryuji would love to tell his mom, she might try to talk to the thieves about it, and that was not going to work either. Akechi was probably the worst person to say it to, but Ryuji felt like he would implode if he kept it in for much longer.  
  
“Hey.” Ryuji decides to open his mouth, but almost regrets it as soon as he starts talking.

  
Akechi looks up from sipping his soda and browsing on his phone to meet eyes with Ryuji. He gives a small smile while the straw’s still in his mouth.

  
“Yes?” Akechi replied, clearly ready to listen. Ryuji sighed, deciding to take his chances and not back out.

  
“... What would you do… If, for example, a friend got mad at you and started avoiding you?” Ryuji asks, wanting to look literally anywhere but at Akechi at this moment in time. It feels like Akechi’s staring into Ryuji’s soul, even if he knows that Akechi’s only trying to be polite. He already feels bad enough as it is.

Akechi’s fingers intertwined again, with his elbows on the table and his chin balanced on top of his hands. He closed his eyes, thinking to himself for what feels like the world’s longest moment.

  
“Hm… That’s... a rather difficult question for me to answer, considering I don’t really have too many friends.” Akechi chuckled, but in a way that made Ryuji feel bad for asking the question. He continues. “...I would seek them out. If I wasn’t understanding what I said to upset them, I would ask what it was so I can better my behavior for the next time we speak.”

"...Yeah. You're right." Ryuji grimaced. He didn't want to admit it, but Akechi was right. Now that made him feel even worse about Morgana.

"Well, I'm not finished." Akechi broke in, voice stern and concentrated. "Just simply asking what I did wrong won't help either. Next… I would apologize for what I did."

"But what if it's over a dumb misunderstanding? What if you didn't mean it or it's over something real dumb and not important?" Ryuji asked.

"Even so. I've found that apologizing and admitting that you're wrong, even if in the case that the spat was over something rather meaningless, it's good to say sorry. It helps to alleviate whatever the person is upset at you over."

Ryuji laughs, but it’s dry, almost bitter. "You make it sound like you apologize for dumb mistakes all the time. Wasn't aware mister perfect flubbed up his words too."

Akechi had an unsure smile, avoiding Ryuji's eyes after hearing those words. He quickly recovered his front that Ryuji knew about and hated so much. 

"Oh, it's much less from personal experience than you’d think. I… read a lot of romance novels in my spare time. It's an excellent tactic that I have found myself using on rare occasions." He tapped his chin with one finger. "... Oh! But please don't misunderstand my personal circumstances with making a fake apology. Make sure that you mean it. If your friend ran away over this, I doubt that it would help if they felt your sorries weren't real."

"... Yeah. Got it." Ryuji replies, looking at his phone. Morgana had an ego (and he was wondering why Zorro was so… like that), maybe stroking it with an apology would be the best way to get him back? But… something about him felt icky about the whole concept. Dishonesty wasn’t his strong suit.

"So… I'm just sucking up to him? Telling him what he wants to hear?" Ryuji played with his soda straw, watching the melting ice in the glass drift through cream. Akechi was mid sip of his own soda, and quickly put it down after being asked a question.

"Well, that's a rather… defeatist way of putting it, but… yes. I suppose that's what you would call it." Akechi checked his phone, looking between it and Ryuji. "... Is this about your friend?"

"I told you, it ain't yer damn business." Ryuji growled.

Akechi puts his phone down and raises both hands in a surrendering gesture. "Apologies. Again, I don't wish to pry, but you seem to be rather down in the dumps today."

"Yeah, and I wanna stay in the dumps, if it means you don't get all up in my business." Ryuji glowered, suddenly not feeling too excited over his drink. Why would Akechi even give a shit about this? Is he really that determined to play this fake mask?

"... Are you, perhaps, mad at this friend of yours?" Akechi pushes gently, but it still starts to piss Ryuji off.

“Akechi-”

“If you see apologizing as sucking up, that makes me believe this friend is not an innocent party.”

“I don’t need your psycho exam bullshit right now Akechi!” Ryuji snaps, leaving Akechi without much else to say. 

An awkward, tense air falls over the table, with Ryuji crossing his arms in a huff and Akechi looking down at the tablecloth. It’s completely silent, save for the chatter of other tables. They both take sips from their drinks, with Ryuji letting the cream float around in his mouth for a moment before swallowing it down. It was light and airy, as if he was just drinking air, little sustenance but just a small twang of vanilla, with a ghost of fizz. He glanced over at Akechi again, who was invested in his phone, with one arm wrapped around his stomach, slouching over and curling in on himself.

_ … Okay, I'll admit that one was kinda harsh, bro. _

“Hey.” Ryuji called for Akechi’s attention, earning a small jump from the detective prince as he looks over in interest. “Sorry. I lost my shit there for a bit.” Akechi only stared, his eyes looking a bit sad.

“That… is what I meant.” Akechi points out. Ryuji tilted his head to the side, attempting to process.

“I know I just told you to… well, suck up to this friend of yours - but it was my fault for prying. The blame isn’t entirely yours, yet you naturally act like it’s entirely your fault.”

“I don’t…” Ryuji argued. “I don’t act like it’s my fault. I just… have a lot on my mind.”

“I did read that ranting can help with pent up aggression...” Akechi suggested.

“I’m not ranting to you! And it’s not that big of a deal, either! I just... needed to let it out by talking to somebody. That’s all.” Ryuji attempts to defend himself.

Akechi hums, checking his phone once again. “Very well. I’m here if you would like to chat, though.” He seemed absorbed in it, which Ryuji took as Akechi essentially ending all communication until the food arrived - possibly until the meal was over. Ryuji didn’t mind that. He hated those mind tricks Akechi tried pulling just now - why would anyone as fake as Akechi give a rat’s ass about him?

The food eventually made its way to the table, with the waiter reappearing just like before. Ryuji’s greeted by a hot plate with a high pile of weird looking fries. Ryuji writes it off as a French thing. Along with the fries was the cut of steak he had been desiring, covered in its trademark crust of crushed pepper. The smell alone was enough to pull Ryuji from his bad mood and get his stomach talking again. Ryuji does, however, stop to glance at Akechi to see what he got, seeing a plate with greens, tomatoes, and chunks of shrimp.

_ Ugggggh. This guy eats like the pretentious ass he is! _

‘Good for him I guess. Eating healthy and shit.’ 

Ryuji dug in right away, his previous gripes melting as he finally eats. You’d figure Ryuji would know that if you don’t eat, your blood sugar hits the toilet and you feel like shit, but… maybe his whole issue with this was just because he was hungry? Yeah, that’s probably it.

Akechi pecked at his dish like some sort of bird, taking a solid minute or two chewing between each fork of veggie and shrimp. He didn’t understand how anybody could eat like... that! Ryuji didn’t understand how anybody could live the way Akechi did, with his fake grin on his fake face and his blog about sugary food, worrying about his looks and wearing suits and dress shoes all the time. This stupid perfection image irritated him to no end. The symbol of a perfect kid, the perfect young adult with seemingly no emotion that just kissed ass wherever he went, the perfect student, and a damn perfect detective. How the hell did a high schooler even GET to be a detective, anyway? He was so damn irritating just to look at, just to hear about on the news, he wanted to vomit every time he heard anybody mention him now. Ryuji knows it’s overreacting, yet… Ryuji hates dishonesty just as much as he hates shitty adults.

“You seem stressed.” Akechi stated. 

“Mmph?” Ryuji muffled around the steak that he crammed into mouth. He’d been so deep in thought about his hate of fakeness that Seiten Taisei had been nodding along with, he almost forgot that Akechi might actually want to talk to him. Seeing Akechi’s face scrunch up with just a touch of disgust, he remembered his manners and makes an effort to chew and swallow.

“I said you seem stressed. You keep glaring at me.” Akechi repeated, a touch of annoyance in his voice. Ryuji rubbed the back of his neck in that way he did when he got embarrassed or was caught off guard. This time, he remained silent, almost shamefully, as he finished his half the steak he ordered. Does Ryuji eat too fast? He doesn’t think so.

“You’re not eating that half?” Akechi questions, pointing his fork at Ryuji’s plate. Ryuji swallowed.

“I’m saving it for my ma.” He bluntly replies, looking around the dining room for a waiter. He needed a box - hey, where did their waiter even GO, anyway?

“Oh, I… assumed you would have made a separate order, if you were bringing one of your parents something.” Akechi raises a brow.

“Nah, when I go out, I usually bring her back half of what I get. I gotta watch what I spend since I don’t have a job.” Ryuji explains, forgetting that he was supposed to be angry with Akechi for prying too much. Though, he feels like he doesn’t mind talking about his mom to Akechi. Maybe it was because the other topic was Thief shit? Probably.

“Oh, is your family… strapped for funds?” Akechi asked, before realizing what he just asked. He mentally slaps himself for being insensitive. “N-nevermind, I apologize for asking such a... personal question.”

“I don’t really care. It’s not all that secret - just… just don’t worry ‘bout it.” Ryuji waved a hand to dismiss the topic, assuring Akechi it was okay. Something told him that it was fine to talk about his family here. Was it because it wasn’t something that directly impacts both of them? Who knows, but it beats dancing around the whole Morgana topic, so he rolls with it. Taisei seems comfortable, at least.

“My ma works two jobs. I’ve been trying to get one in my free time, but... well...” Ryuji lazily gestures to his hair. “...Tokyo’s got me pinned as a delinquent punk that would be no good in any job, and I ain’t going back to black. I can’t.”

“I see.” Akechi trailed off, putting his fork down and paying attention in full dividends to Ryuji. It almost felt… nice, that Akechi cared. “If... you don’t mind, what about your father?”

Ryuji fell silent at that, closing off completely for a few seconds as he attempts to find a good way to approach the topic. The regret filled Akechi’s face almost instantly - he was SHIT at picking topics. 

“It’s… It’s okay, man. Really.” Ryuji crossed his arms and thought to himself, while Akechi looked on, concerned. “He was always drinkin’ and shit when I was little. First week of middle school, he just… left. Mom pulled me from school that day, we burned all his shit and cleaned the apartment so it never smelled like beer again. Don’t know or care where the hell he is now.”

_ Hey man, Princey’s lookin’ worried over there. Might wanna ease his worries so he doesn’t try to flip out on us. _

At Seiten Taisei’s warning, Ryuji looks Akechi in the eyes. He was right. Akechi’s expression looked noticeably less plastic, like the celebrity paint peeled off upon hearing about his dad. The tension was building way too fast - Ryuji has to say something.

“Hey, I think you were right... About the ranting thing.” Ryuji started, catching Akechi’s attention again. It’s hard not to be nervous. “I mean, I didn’t talk about the friend bullshit, but I still feel a little better. Maybe I’m just pent up, or something.” He shrugs. Akechi still seems on edge. 

“Is that right? I’m glad that I was able to help you in that case.” Akechi smiled. The fake smile, Ryuji noted. “If you don’t think it too rude… could I perhaps… rant as well…?” 

“What, you feeling under the weather too?” Ryuji grins, letting himself take a teasing tone. Akechi smiles too, while keeping the uneasy expression. It was a start.

“A bit. This week has been rather stressful for me, what with the Kaneshiro and Medjed incidents being piled up on my plate.” Akechi huffed. 

Oh yeah, Kaneshiro and Medjed made Akechi’s reputation hit the shit. He still remembers two girls that sat in front of him in his class that liked to talk shit on the guy and sing the praises of the Phantom Thieves, when months before they pretty much worshipped him. Seeing Akechi now, it makes him remember that as robotic as the celebrity may seem, he does have emotions. Buried under enough plastic to kill the ocean emotions, but emotions nonetheless. Ryuji recalls being the talk of school after his leg was broken, how people talked shit about him behind his back after singing his praises while he still had a squeaky clean track record. Two faced assholes. Akechi had to go through that on a national level, considering that the Phantom Thieves were popular in other countries now. Ryuji was never so curious to check Akechi’s blog postings as he was then, wondering if his inbox or comment sections were really flooded with trolls and hate mail like he was joking about on TV. It made him feel a little sick, so… might as well help if he can, right?

“... Shoot. Go ahead - you listened to me, I can listen to you too.” Ryuji offers, all ears. Akechi’s brow raised before he let out a soft chuckle.

“My… how kind of you.” He speaks carefully, as if his words will make or break what Ryuji thinks of him. It’s… kinda the truth, in a way. 

“The office has been rather busy recently - I’ve been working extra hours, hoping to keep up with the senior investigators. The Phantom Thieves truly are an astounding group, being able to turn public opinion so quickly in their favor, only a few months after their debut.” He explains, taking a small sip of his soda, then making a rather dramatic sigh. “... And with their positive opinion, it would appear that my own has taken a considerate nosedive.” Ryuji frowned, feeling bad for Akechi. Only a little. 

_ This guy’s not even a clown, he’s the whole damn circus! Even if we feel bad, he’s still not someone we trust, ya know. C’mon, bro. _

‘Yeah, I know. But still…’ Ryuji protests to Taisei mentally. Akechi, be he aware or not, continues.

“I apologize if I’m speaking too much about the Phantom Thieves. You’re probably sick of hearing about them.” Akechi laughed his pitiful laugh.

‘That’s… half true.’ Ryuji checked his phone again, only catching a small blip on the group chat screen that showed Akira and Makoto typing at the same time. The table cloth obscured whatever they were talking about since the last time he checked the chatroom.

‘It’s more that I kinda wish they’d stop nagging me than I wish I'd stop hearing about them.’ Ryuji thinks.

“Sakamoto.” 

Ryuji jumped, forgetting that Akechi was talking to him.

“Drifted off, sorry. I guess I am a little sick of hearing about em.” Ryuji ruffled his own hair, feeling a bit ashamed at his own zoning out. Akechi blinked.

“Hm. I was under the impression that you and your friends were fans.” Akechi impaled shrimp and a tomato on his fork, before sliding it into his mouth. 

“Well, yeah. Everybody gets a little sick of things they like over time though, right?” Ryuji spoke, waving down a waiter who passed by their table. A wordless exchange took place where the server motioned his hands in a square motion, and Ryuji nodded. The man hustled into the back, assumedly to grab a box.

“I suppose you’re right. Obsessions don’t last forever, do they?” Akechi had only a pitiable little clump of salad and seafood left, which he finished off rather easily around the same time that Ryuji got a styrofoam container. With his fork, Ryuji transferred his leftovers, fries included. With a snap, the lid was shut, and his attention went back to the soda that he barely drank throughout the dinner. He reaches for it, pulling it closer, almost chugging it through the tiny straw.

“Well.” Akechi started, getting Ryuji’s gaze. “It was rather nice having dinner with somebody today. I rarely get the occasion when it isn’t with my superiors, and they’re hardly as friendly company as you are, Sakamoto-kun.”

_ … Shit, that’s the nicest thing he’s said all night! _

“No big deal. Thanks for letting me crash on your fancy dinner reservation.” Ryuji started absentmindedly playing with his hair again while pulling up his mom’s contact on his phone. He should probably message her. “So, you don’t eat out with others a lot? I thought you... Would’ve eaten with your police buddies or something.”

Akechi winced. “Well, the police department has been rather busy lately, but even then, nobody really wants to go out for ramen or okonomiyaki with the same investigators that were just arguing with them over case theories in a meeting room. Those sorts of stories of fellow workers joining together and drinking their pains away at an Oden cart are more for salary workers and cubicle suits.”

Ryuji gave a grin.

‘Smartass.’

_ Ain’t that the truth. _

“Well, if not the people you work with, what about friends from school, or what about your parents?” Ryuji blurted, getting a bit too enthusiastic that he was actually having a conversation with Goro Akechi of all people. Well, one that wasn’t fake or forced in any way. Things became awkward almost instantly after that question though, and Ryuji closes his mouth mouth in shame. Akechi’s eyes had a far off glow to them, like he didn’t want to be there or he was absorbed in another place or time. 

‘Shit.’ Ryuji scolded himself.

“... Bad memories?” Ryuji quietly asks, feeling a bit guilty. Akechi’s body movement has gone stiff.

“Somewhat.” Akechi thought for a second, falling silent. He swirls around the remaining oil from his food on his plate with the salad fork he had been using earlier. 

“I don’t really have many friends. And...I live alone.” A conflicted, forced grin hung off of his face. Ryuji tried to make his next few words as delicate as he could, knowing he could make or break the whole thing like this.

“And… Your parents?”

The corners of Akechi’s mouth pulled themselves up even higher. “... None of your business?” He snorted. Ryuji was flabbergasted that Akechi made a joke on his own attitude from earlier that night. 

“Hey, stop messing with me.” Ryuji grinned. He didn’t want to admit that the joke was a little humorous, if only for a second. Akechi smiled too, not reverting back to the depressed front that Ryuji spotted coming from him seconds earlier.

“Apologies.” He fell silent for a bit. After a pause, Akechi starts again.

“...My mother passed away a long time ago, when I was a young boy.” He spoke, his tone dropping, but not to an awkward level. Ryuji sat up straight, probably out of some sort of vaguely undeserved respect. “She left me inheritance, but I was too young to live on my own or keep it until the age of fourteen. I grew up in the foster system.”

_ … Jeez. Dunno what we’d be without mom. _

“And your dad?” Ryuji hated asking, but his curiosity got the better of him. Akechi only shook his head.

“Out of the picture. I could probably find him If I wanted, but I have no reason to right now. I… would like to believe I ended up fine despite him not being around.” The silence was deafening and awkward, to say the least. Akechi’s eyes were closed now, but if it was due to being in thought or to avoid Ryuji, he didn’t know. He tried to think of something stupid to lighten the mood - it was one of the things he did best, after all. Ryuji gives one of his beaming smiles.

“Shitty Dad Club.” Ryuji comments, not too loud, and not too enthusiastically. He attempts to keep his enthusiasm in, but it peeks out despite his attempts for the bored tone. The surprise shifted from Akechi started as a small giggle, but quickly evolved to a delicate but hearty laugh.

“Quite creative of you.” Akechi held his gloved fist out, in a fistbump position. “Shitty Dad Club.” He responded, earning a huge grin from Ryuji.

_ Did we... ? Hell YEAH we got Akechi to say shit! _

‘We totally did.’ Ryuji congratulated himself and Seiten with a mental slap on the back before returning the gesture to Akechi and fist-bumping him.

“Shitty Dad Club.”

The two made nonsensical chatter until the bill arrived, which Akechi requested to be split into two for both to pay separately. Ryuji’s half of the bill came first, which Ryuji quickly pays and stands up with his takeout in hand. Akechi remains sitting.

“You staying?” Ryuji asks.

“Yes, I still have to get my crepe.” Akechi grins. “Oh, would you like to stay for dessert? I know that you just paid, but I can pay for you, if you would like.”

“Nah.” Ryuji replies. “You already did enough by listening and letting me join ya. Plus, I’m not really feeling into sweets right now after that soda.” Akechi nodded, understanding why Ryuji would be hesitant. As Ryuji turns to leave, Akechi calls out after him.

“Sakamoto-kun? One more thing.” Akechi squeaked, meeting eyes with Ryuji while holding his phone in one hand. “May I get your contact information? I would like to have dinner with you again… Should the time allow for it.”

“Huh?” Ryuji stammers. “Wh-what for? I-I mean - why?”

“It was nice talking to somebody over food. I can make reservations easily, so if you would like to get together again, I can arrange for an outing ahead of time.” Akechi beams. It’s fake, Ryuji knows it’s fake, but this smile felt different. Among the sea of factory manufactured chemicals that went into that practiced row of teeth and cheek muscles and the stupid shiny skin and complexion, there was genuinity in that smile.

_ Dude… Are you really...? _

‘I’m gonna do it.’

_ Really, Ryuji? Even I wouldn’t- _

‘He needs a friend. Might as well be me. He listened to me, I’ll listen to him too. Plus, no more waiting for steak.’

_ … Okay, fine. I hope you know what to do when this bites us later. _

He couldn’t believe he was pitying Goro Akechi, celebrity who captured the heart of every girl he looked at and was probably loaded out the ass either from fame or his fancy detective job, but here he was.

“Sure. Hand your phone over.” Ryuji gives in. Akechi’s brows rise in satisfaction as he passes his fancy phone over. It was already opened to a new contact page, and Ryuji wastes no time in entering his number and name. Ryuji takes a second while the contact was registering to notice how the phone has no blemishes whatsoever - no cracks, no dents in the silver case, nothing of the sort. How artificial.

“Thank you. I’ll message you later so that you can register me as well.” Akechi crosses his legs, smiling as brightly as ever. Ryuji only nods.

“Later.” He waves goodbye, then heads home.

* * *

While holding his bagged takeout box at the exact angle to allow for the food to survive his trip back to Shibuya, he felt a buzz in his pocket. It’s probably Akechi. He waits until some people got off the train at the next stop to snag a pole - being made into a sardine on the train was a mood ruiner - and stuck his hand through the holes in the bag. With a free hand, he grabs his phone from his pocket, pausing a moment to stare at his lock screen. It’s a selfie of him and his friends, complete with Mona in the bag. Ryuji frowns, swiping past the lock screen to see a message from an unknown number. 

***** *** ****: Hello? Is this Ryuji Sakamoto’s number? This is Akechi.**

Ryuji… almost answers the text seriously before realizing he could mess with the guy a little while he had the chance.

**Ryuji: I think you have the wrong number sir, this is Suginami, Ogikubo branch, at the eighteen plus counter. Would you like to purchase a BL novel today?**

***** *** ****: Oh no! I apologize! I must have texted the wrong number. **

***** *** ****: Though it’s rather strange that you replied considering manga stores don’t tend to have phones that can text.**

_ Damnit. _

‘Yeah, didn’t expect any less from a detective prince.’ He thought.

***** *** ****: You must think you’re very funny Sakamoto-kun. **

**Ryuji: dude, I’m hilarious. shitty dad club.**

***** *** ****: Yes, shitty dad club. Have you registered my number?**

**Ryuji: gimme just a sec.**

Ryuji hits the contact info button in the corner and quickly types Akechi’s name in the contact, but pauses when the thought of a joke name passes in his brain. He types the other name in and snaps a screenshot of his hard work to send to Akechi...

**Minty Lemon Palate: You seem rather entertained by this.**

**Ryuji: hell yeah I am.**

**Minty Lemon Palate: Well, as long as you can remember this is my number, it doesn’t matter to me what name I have in your phone.**

**Minty Lemon Palate: I texted to remind you before I go to bed.**

**Ryuji: yayaya**

**Minty Lemon Palate: Haha**

**Minty Lemon Palate: Well, goodnight. Text me if you would like to go to dinner again or if you have anything else you would like to talk about. I cannot ensure that I will answer right away due to school, work, or interviews, but I’ll be sure to answer them as I see them.**

**Ryuji: k**

**Ryuji: nite**

Ryuji felt somehow… lighter with that conversation, the feeling carrying with him all the way home. His mom will feel better, and well.. Ryuji suppose he’d never turn down the chance to help someone else.


	2. Seeded

Much to Ryuji’s disappointment, that light feeling doesn’t last. It’s a few days later when the cat returns, bringing along with him a new girl. Haru Okumura, was it? She seems to be a good person, despite the fact they’re stealing her dad’s heart (of all things, but fate is weird like that), though Ryuji briefly wonders if she’ll be okay with the mess that is the Phantom Thieves. Things get complicated, after all, and speaking of which… Ryuji was dreading what happened next after they left the Metaverse. He’s going to be forced to apologize to Morgana, which won’t end well, and the more he thinks about it the deeper the pit in his stomach seems to get. It won’t be pretty.

The meeting goes as expected, Ryuji feels like he shouldn’t even be there.

Despite how pleasant and lovely Haru is, Ryuji breathes a sigh of relief when the meeting is over. Time to do the worst part - the part where he takes Morgana aside. Without thinking, he nudges Mona in his tiny cat ribs and asks to speak with him downstairs, away from the other members of the team. This earned him some looks from the rest of the thieves, but Morgana, hesitant as he was, agreed. After an onslaught of complaints from the cat, the two descend into Leblanc’s dining area, where Morgana jumps up onto the table of the closest booth and sits. Ryuji chooses to stand with his hands in his pockets.

“What’s this all about, Ryuji?” Morgana asks first. There’s a pause as Ryuji fails to meet Morgana’s gaze, and the silence continues for some time. Morgana looked irritated at the waste of time, which has Ryuji finally spit out what he means to say.

“I wanted to say sorry.” Ryuji blurts, careful to keep his tone monotone and serious. Morgana’s ears perked up in response.

“I… I shouldn’t have gone around callin’ you useless. You’re a part of the team, you’re our friend… we’re that special place that you belong, y’know?” He rubs the back of his neck. Ryuji was no good with this kind of stuff - words were never his strong suit and this just proves it. He struggles to remember what Akechi told him earlier...

_ “I've found that apologizing and admitting that you're wrong, even in the case that the spat was over something rather meaningless, it's good to say sorry. It helps to alleviate whatever the person is upset at you over.” _

“I was wrong to insult you. I’m sorry.” Ryuji bows his head and closes his eyes as a show of sincerity, hoping Morgana would pick up on it. He hears a chuckle come from the cat.  
  
“Well, I suppose I can accept your sincere apology. You should be _ grateful _ for my kind heart and understanding soul.” Morgana grins, his tail swishing from side to side with amusement and holding his head high. Ryuji internally groans, waving that acceptance off as just textbook Morgana. 

‘Such a damn ego on such a small ass cat.’

_ Bitch. _

‘Whatever, I apologized. Maybe everything will be chill from now on.’  
  
“So, we good now?” Ryuji pipes up, hoping that this is the last he’ll have to deal with Morgana’s massive pride.

“Yeah, yeah. Sure. Shouldn’t you be heading home soon?” The not cat asks, cleaning his face with his paw.

“The trains don’t stop for another hour, man.” Ryuji answers, watching Morgana leap off the table and climb the stairs back into the attic.

“Whatever, I’m gonna go to bed pretty soon. That little chase earlier today left me exhausted.” Morgana calls back, and Ryuji feels another sigh coming on. That didn’t go… poorly? But it’s like nothing has changed. Same old asshole cat, same old Ryuji taking the heat. It’s not like everyone’s left yet, have they? He can hear them upstairs, chatting away…

The normal course of action would be to climb the stairs again, face the music, join the thieves, meet the cute new girl with the daddy issues that almost everybody there could all too easily relate to, Ryuji especially. However, some strange force kept Ryuji stapled in place. His center of gravity focuses on that one spot of tile floor, where his feet now stood like pillars, his body. He glances up at the wood stairs, which pulled him closer with the sounds of muffled talking, festivities held behind weak wooden walls.

_ What’s up? _   
  


‘Nothin. Just not feelin it tonight I guess.’

_ Maybe you’re just running on low. Get some fuel. _

Ryuji decides he’s not hungry, but maybe… he can bug Akechi - who seems to have bugged him first. Huh, funny how things work. He stuffs down a chuckle as he opens the contact and remembers his practical joke from last week.

If the Phantom Thieves ask, or even notice Ryuji’s gone, he’ll make up some story about Mishima wanting to hang out or something - Mishima would cover for him. Right? Totally.

**Minty Lemon Palate: Apologies for the sudden message, Sakamoto-kun. I was wondering if you would feel up to another meal together? You can choose where of course, I will make reservations in advance.**

Ryuji's grin shifts into a cringe - the message was sent earlier today. About three hours ago.

**Ryuji: yo man! Uh… sorry for answering late. you still good to hang out?**

There’s more quiet as Ryuji mindlessly leaves the party in LeBlanc to stand outside. To his surprise, the response is almost instant.

**Minty Lemon Palate: It’s quite alright. While I can’t ensure reservations, I am still open to dinner. I didn't get a chance to eat yet, you see.**

Oh. Well, it’s still an excuse to leave, so might as well take it. Ryuji ponders his next best move - where should they go…? Oh, duh, where else but the best place to eat ramen ever?

**Ryuji: what about that ramen place in Ogikubo? think that’ll work for ya?**

**Minty Lemon Palate: I can’t say I know it, but I am open to trying something new tonight.**

**Ryuji: sweet, here’s the address.**

Ryuji types in the location of the store, seeing the text light up in blue to indicate it transformed into a hyperlink after the message sent. Akechi took a mere second to reply.

**Minty Lemon Palate: Ah, I believe I do know this place. Or, the area at least. There’s a rather nice juice bar near there. I believe it was called… ‘’Universe Juice’’? Some sort of strange title along those lines.**

**Ryuji: cool. so we’re doin ramen?**

**Minty Lemon Palate: Of course. Though, I would like to stop by that store beforehand, if you do not mind.**

Ryuji raises a brow.

**Ryuji: ain’t it too late for a juice place to be open? **

**Minty Lemon Palate: I won’t be too long. In fact, I’m walking out the door now. I’ll be seeing you there?**

**Ryuji: yeah yeah. It’s on the same street as the ramen shop right?**

**Minty Lemon Palate: That’s correct. Meet you there.**

Well, that makes that easy. Ryuji sends a quick confirmation message and leaves LeBlanc behind. He stops to look back at the building - there were lights on upstairs, and Ryuji simply shakes his head before embarking on his little journey. He’ll get a text about Haru’s welcoming party later; right now, he just needed to be anywhere else. Ryuji starts with a slow walk, which speeds to a brisk jog as he makes his way to the trains. He’ll need to walk home after this, but the thinking time might help him out.

Ryuji disappears into the night, figuring that if anyone cared he left, then he’d probably get a text.

* * *

Akechi beats him there, but Ryuji wasn’t really expecting much. He can see Akechi’s light brown hair from the outside of the shop, probably chatting away with the girl behind the counter. He goes to open the door and pulls, finding instead that it’s locked. The girl in uniform looks up and shakes her head, only to then send Ryuji some fierce stink eye. Ryuji, out of curiosity, attempts to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut and looks for a time of operations poster.

Closed. 

Of course, it’s closed, that’s just Ryuji’s luck.

Akechi’s quick to take notice of the worker’s glare at the door and glances over, seeing Ryuji trapped outside. He quickly darts to the doors, pushing them open and allowing Ryuji to enter. Ryuji gives a friendly wave and swallows down his pride, hoping that Akechi doesn’t mind the lateness of it all.

“Sorry man. Rough shit happened today.” The metaverse left him so drained, yet here he was, still kicking.

“It’s quite alright, I’m glad you didn’t cancel on me last minute.” Akechi replies, giving what Ryuji can only perceive as a tired smile. He’s certain he probably should have called it off, fraternizing with the enemy and all that, but the guy hasn’t eaten anything for dinner either… Might as well make sure someone gets fed today.

“No problem, man - come on, I bet they close soon.”

“Just a moment. They’re almost finished with my drink.” Akechi grinned before returning to his spot at the counter. The employee remains quiet with a serious glare, making sure Ryuji feels rightfully judged about coming in when the sign says closed.

“He’s with me.” Akechi states, watching as the worker’s entire tune changes. 

“Oh… it’s okay then, Akechi-kun~...” She smiles sweetly, and Ryuji tries to discreetly roll his eyes.

_ Uuuuugh. Barf. _

‘Tell me about it.’

“Why don’t you get something as well, Sakamoto-kun?” Akechi suggests, his chin on his hand and a smile like he never left the TV station. Ryuji grimaces. The worker didn’t seem super pleased either until Akechi shot her the celebrity grin. It was almost comical how two-faced this girl was when it came to her precious Akechi-kun... Ryuji scratches at the back of his tricep.

“Are you buyin’ for me?” Ryuji jokes. Akechi imitates a laugh.

“I suppose I’ll have to. What would you like?”

“Dude, no. I’m not gonna make you pay for something for me. I’ll just get a soda or something at the ramen place.”

“It really isn’t a problem, Sakamoto-kun. It’s not as though buying you a smoothie will make a significant dent in my wallet.”

Ryuji succumbs quickly, not wanting to argue over this menial shit with a fangirl watching them.

“Fine.” He scoffs, kicking with his bad leg as he inspected the electric board, dotted in all of these options of fruits and shots and nutrition values. His eyes hurt just looking at and attempting to read anything. He got the first thing that came to mind without seeing if it was a thing he could get. 

“... Watermelon with a protein shot?”

“Of course.” Akechi spoke, pulling out a glossy red card from his wallet, nodding to the girl. Her eyes shine as she disappears to go make Ryuji’s drink.

Painfully, the entire time, the worker made obvious attempts to flirt with Akechi.

Painfully, the entire time, Akechi shuts her down immediately. 

Painfully, he watched. Ryuji… did his best not to be envious of one of his least favorite qualities of the detective prince, his ability to easily attract, and instantly deny cute girls. Not to say this girl was all that appealing anymore after she shot daggers with her mascara laden eyes. 

Akechi pays for the drinks, and the two of them decide to remain near the register, close enough the worker wouldn’t want to shoo them off, but far enough away flirting was a hopeless endeavor. She finally gives their drinks out, and Ryuji doesn’t think twice as he takes a drink.

Ew. Seeds.

He angrily slurps his drink, chewing on chunks of ice and watermelon seeds before finally gulping it down. Akechi doesn’t seem to notice… right away, at least.

“... You don't spit those out?” Akechi asks, a small frown taking place of that TV smile.

“What? The seeds?” Ryuji asks, grimacing as he gets a mouthful of them when attempting to drink again.

"Watermelon seeds aren't good for the digestive system. The pulp is, but the seeds contain small amounts of cyanide that can get into the body if split open and swallowed." Akechi recounts this information as if from a book, like he always sounds when he talks about his intellectual bullshit. Ryuji just sighs and scratches his head.

"I dunno man. I don't think about that shit. And the hell is cyanide?" He asks, earning a raised brow from Akechi.

"It's a type of chemical compound that is often used as a poison." Akechi watches as Ryuji did a double-take, immediately withdrawing from mid-sip. "Oh, don't be alarmed though! You would need to eat a large amount for cyanide poisoning to take place."

"Geez, Akechi! You scared the shit out of me!" Ryuji shouts, paying no mind to the bratty girl behind the counter that kept giving him the coldest stare he’d ever felt. Akechi grew an apologetic gaze.

"I apologize Sakamoto-kun. I just thought I would let you know. I was reading an article just the other day about a case of food scandals in the United States regarding the selling of apple seeds as a miracle food, and, well..."

Ryuji wipes his mouth with his wrist, not minding the watermelon and spit that stuck to his skin now. He didn't need a napkin. He swallows what was left in his mouth and felt it travel down his throat. He opens his mouth once again. "Apple seeds have the same shit in them?" 

Akechi nods, putting a hand to his chin like he always does on TV. Ryuji takes it as a second nature gesture, like how Yusuke always did the frame thing with his fingers.

"Cyanide, yes. Small amounts, but still enough to cause harm if eaten enough. There have been companies selling dried apple seeds in America as fake health food, and the internet is starting to take notice of it."

"W-well yeah! They should haul those dickheads off to jail for selling shit that can hurt people!" Ryuji’s anger flares, earning a chuckle from Akechi. Ryuji didn't find the humor in it.

"I agree, but selling products with cyanide isn't anything new. Almonds have a similar issue to a lesser degree. They have a smaller amount but… they can hospitalize someone if eaten in large quantities."

"For real…? My ma and I used to eat em too…"

"I wouldn't dwell upon it too much. Sometimes it is up to the consumer to decide if a product is worth it, if they should cut it from their shopping list or not. I, however…" Akechi stands up, giving Ryuji enough time to get to his feet as they began making their way to the door. "...I doubt it's a matter that I should worry myself with, it is an issue in an entirely different world from mine here in Japan, after all."

The lukewarm air hits him as soon as Akechi opens the door. Akechi stepped outside, holding open the door with one hand and taking a drink with his other. 

"Hey." Ryuji stopped before exiting the establishment, earning another brow from Akechi.

"You said it doesn't do shit if you just swallow and don't chew, right?"

Akechi's head tilts as his lips pucker around his straw. He releases it with a pop and clicks his tongue.

"I would personally leave them out of the equation altogether, but you can keep consuming them if it's more enjoyable than trying to remove every little bad part." He shrugs. Ryuji only nods, proceeding on his way and leaving the building with Akechi by his side.

"Mmm. It is a bit better without the chunky shit." Ryuji comments after another slurp.

“It’s the little bad pieces ruining a good product, you know?” Akechi quips, and Ryuji makes a puzzled face as he continues to work around the seeds.

Ryuji doesn’t respond right away, instead choosing to crunch on an ice cube as his leg bounces. “... Guess so.”

Akechi gives another smile, a little less fake. 

"Told you." Akechi grins, earning a knock in the arm from Ryuji.

* * *

The ramen place was fairly empty, mostly due to it being near closing time. There are a few businessmen who work late nights in the back around the bar, but other than a sleepy pair of chefs slaving over soup broth, there wasn't another soul in the joint. Ryuji takes a seat at the bar and gestures for Akechi to come sit with him. He complies. Once settled, the shorter chef with bags under his eyes and fog obscuring his glasses put on his best smile. Ryuji offers him a sympathetic smile back.

“What’ll it be for ya, Sakamoto? The usual?”

“It’s just gonna be a small bowl of my usual for me.” Ryuji orders, and the chef, who seems at least familiar with Ryuji, makes a face of surprise. Ryuji continues. “Oh, and we have drinks already - plus whatever he wants.” He lazily motions to Akechi, next to him at the bar.

Akechi, who has had no time to look at the menu, seems a bit taken aback when it’s his turn to order. He makes a face of discomfort, briefly at being put on the stop, quickly masked by a smile as he flips through the menu that had been left at the table, scanning at the speed of light (at least, from what Ryuji could tell). 

“...The Tilapia Ramen Bowl, please. With miso broth.” Akechi declares, with a meek inflection in his vocals. The chef nods, disappearing behind the kitchen equipment to prepare the order. Ryuji slumps over, and Akechi allows himself to look concerned as he does.

“Are you alright, Sakamoto?” Akechi dares to ask and earns a long, drawn-out groan from the blond who looks like he’s going to turn into a puddle on the table. Akechi keeps his hands to himself and remains sitting pleasantly, digging in even more. “Did… did something happen?”  
  
Without much of a warning, Ryuji goes back into a normal, slumped sit. He grabs his drink again and partakes, sloshing the pulp, melted ice, and seeds in his mouth. 

“It’s nothin, man. You probably have some shit going on at work, yeah? You’re the one that texted me first.” Ryuji muffled around the contents in his mouth. Akechi stops to ponder, then nods in understanding.

“How kind of you to insist that I vent. But… I’m afraid I don’t have many tales to share from the station today that wouldn’t clash with dinner.” 

Ryuji blinks, wondering what the hell he was talking about. This confusion clearly made its way to Akechi, who continued.

“Other than that… nothing but messy crimes at the station today. Nothing to discuss over food without ruining somebody’s appetite.”

“Well, ain’t you just the spittin image of polite.” Ryuji teases with a grin. “Try me.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. Besides, sharing crime details with civilians isn’t a habit I would like to put into any further practice.” He folds one hand over the other and rests his chin on top, leaning forward and taking in the decor. Ryuji wasn’t really done “interrogating” Akechi, he just wanted anyone else to be carrying the conversation.

“What about school? You’re an honors kid right?” Ryuji asks out of the blue. Akechi’s eyes return to the table, and by extension, Ryuji. He sighs.

“Sadly, not much there either. I’ve taken to studying and working off school grounds lately due to the gossip floating around its hallowed halls.” He rubs his chin, with the leather material dragging on his own skin. Ryuji didn’t know why he focused on that of all things.

“So… why did you wanna meet up again?” 

Ryuji catches Akechi mid-sip of his drink. He takes a minute to finish his sip, then puts his cup down. His chin rests on the backs of his hands.

“...I suppose I’ve just had a bad day.”

“That’s all you’re gonna say? Humor me. Why did you have a bad day?”

Akechi falls silent, instead choosing to turn to the back of the establishment to look at the mounted TV. It was tuned to the news - about what Ryuji expected. He can tell from here, with the bright and bold red and white letters plastered on the screen that it was about Akechi.

“... Bad interview?” Ryuji questions. Akechi gives a low chuckle and shakes his head, shutting his eyes. In exhaustion or shame, Ryuji wasn’t sure.

“I suppose I did have something to rant about after all. Go ahead and watch it, I’ll wait.”

Ryuji takes a moment to crease a brow at Akechi’s attitude, but did as told. He couldn’t hear every word, but the subtitles worked well and fine. It seems as though the hosts of the talk show were displaying online messages left on Akechi’s social media, ones that Ryuji couldn’t read himself due to them being in English. The subtitles, however, showed what they said.

“They had me come on just so I could read my own hate messages and respond to them.”  
  
Akechi explains, sighing at the perplexed look on Ryuji’s face when it doesn’t all click.

“The media certainly seems to be having a field day with my poor reputation as of late, showing off negative comments towards me from overseas for the public to see. It’s rather humorous.” Akechi laughs dryly. Fake, as expected.

_ It’s just words. ‘Sides, they’ll probably be kissin’ his ass soon anyway... _

‘Just… words. Yeah. He’s got nothing to be upset about.’

_ Exactly, dude. _

Akechi clears his throat.

“Anyhow, are you also needing to rant?” 

The question caught Ryuji off guard. He had been mindlessly messing with the seed matter stuck between his molars and gums, before the interruption. His slumped posture straightened at the question.

“Well… uh... “ Ryuji stumbles. Should he even talk about it? Does he need to? Ryuji makes a face as Akechi mentally cycles through what happened last time to see if he remembers what they talked about.

“I-it’s nothing. I came here ‘cause you wanted to talk, yeah? Go ahead, go off. I won’t stop you.” Ryuji reassured, waving a hand as if to get Akechi to step off of his own business and continue with his own. Which… is exactly what Ryuji wanted him to do.

“That truly is all I wanted to say. I apologize.” He laughs again, the fake laugh. “But you’ve seemed rather down since I met up with you tonight. Perhaps you needed this more than I did?”

_ That’s... a joke, right? _

‘Doesn’t sound like it.‘

“I don’t think I gotta rant, but, if you want me to say something to get your mind off the media shit, I guess I can talk about the shit from last time.”

Akechi simply straightens his back and stays silent. The epitome of respectful body language - Ryuji mentally rolls his eyes. As stupid and artificial as it looked, Ryuji appreciates the gesture anyway.

“It’s just… do you remember that friend I talked about?”

Akechi nods, but Ryuji wonders if Akechi really cared enough to recall something from almost a week ago.

“So... I went and apologized to the guy like I got chewed out for not doing earlier, and he just… shrugs it off like I was kissin’ his ass. Then he has the gall to just… leave me there and go back upstairs without anything else…” Ryuji explains, but Akechi remains silent, as if urging him to keep speaking.

“I dunno man… I don’t know what to say to him so maybe I’ll just put up with it for now. He’s always been like this, so it shouldn’t be that hard.”

“He’s always been like this?” Akechi asks. Ryuji shrinks under Akechi’s sudden interest.

“Uh. Yeah…” Ryuji scratches the back of his neck, continuing while Akechi leans forward.

“Ever since I met him he’s had this like… ego? I think ego is the word for it.”

“So he’s prideful then.” Akechi states, rubbing his chin once again.

“I guess? He’s kinda stuck up, bratty, acts spoiled even though he ain’t rich. He gets all angry and shit too if I try to speak up or say anything about him.”

“Truly? I wasn’t aware a person with those qualities could easily find friends.” 

Ryuji laughs at that. Akechi’s eyes shot up as Ryuji chuckles, with his neutral expression changing to a smile at seeing the spark of joy in Ryuji.

“Honestly, he’s pretty damn lucky that he has friends to begin with! He’s got such a damn attitude and everybody just loves on him cuz he’s cute and shit!”

“Oh, so is this a rivalry of sorts?” Akechi asks, earning a glance from Ryuji. “If he’s showered in praise and kindness for being… cute, I mean. Are you perhaps fighting him for the affection of another?”

“Wh- No way dude! He’s not cute like that- he’s a-”

_ RYUJI! _

Shit. He forgot to keep his trap shut.

“He’s… what?” Akechi pokes, curious as to what Ryuji was going to say. Ryuji, however, struggles to finish the sentence after freezing up.

“He’s…...ah....a younger kid!” Ryuji lies. It’s a shitty lie, one he had no doubt Akechi would see through, but it seems to appease the detective prince enough.

“I wasn’t aware you had a younger friend. How do you know him?”

“He’s… uh… Ann’s little brother!”

“I…didn’t know Takamaki-san had a relative. So you two don’t get along then?”

“Hardly. He’s always bossing everybody around and shit too, likes to call me useless out of effin nowhere too.” Ryuji grumbled, aggressively slurping at his smoothie straw. Out of the corner of Ryuji’s eyes, he caught Akechi’s face scrunching up.

“If you don’t mind me asking… why are you still hanging out with him?” Akechi breathed.  
  
Ryuji goes still, like he’s trying to process the question.

“Wh-”

“I mean it. If you and this friend never seem to get along, why do you still associate yourself with him?” Akechi asks again, irritation sharp in his voice, and Ryuji makes a sour face like he’s trying to find an answer - well, an answer that’s not ‘reveal you’re a phantom thief and the idiot cat is kinda the starting member of the team and you are thus forced to deal with him”.

“He’s friends with all my other friends.” Ryuji finally says, looking defeated. “We have to bring him along or one friend won’t go.”

“Hm.” Akechi grunts, uncharacteristically unhappy. He rubs his face as a bowl slides to him from across the counter. Ryuji receives his bowl as well, but doesn’t go to break his chopsticks as fast as he usually did. His stomach churned, and just like that his appetite was gone. Akechi readies his utensils and takes up a spindle of noodles in his chopsticks. The noodles slowly untwist as golden broth drips down the length and back into the bath of veggies and tilapia. Ryuji watched as Akechi’s eyes softened. He didn’t eat the food like any normal, rational human being, instead choosing the put the food back down, letting it slowly descend and curl up again in the liquid as he reached for his glass spoon. He scooped up a timid amount of the stock, and cautiously brought it closer to his glossed lips. Upon contact, Akechi flinches, and as slowly as he brought it closer, he pushed it away and blew to alleviate the heat.

“Don’t wait too long for it to cool.” Ryuji presses. Akechi looks up from his bowl and at Ryuji. “The noodles ain't as good when they get soggy, and the broth loses flavor when it isn’t hot anymore.” 

“Is that true? I wasn’t aware.”

“Yeah.”

Awkward silence permeated the restaurant aside from the clatter of the workers and the hushed conversation of the salarymen in the back of the establishment. Both boys only stared ahead at the table, for what felt like hours. Akechi made another scoop at his food, and finally, the soup made its way to his mouth. Ryuji could only watch as Akechi’s tension seemed to drain away at the taste. Their eyes met, with Ryuji giving a weak smile and Akechi returning the expression with a fake one. Smiling in the face of being put down and insulted… Ryuji couldn’t imagine how that felt. Maybe being a smoke and mirrors TV celebrity asshole wasn’t the luxurious life he had made it out to be.

His stomach grumbled. He took another chug of liquid melon. The pulp was getting irritating now.  
  
“Are you certain they’re your friends?” Akechi digs again, twirling up another load of noodles. He broke Ryuji from his thoughts.

“...Nice one Akechi, of course they are.” Ryuji responds far too quickly, and pokes at a slice of pork floating daintily on a bed of noodles in the broth with his unbroken chopsticks. He quickly remedied that by pulling them apart, and took a sudden pull at the noodles and brought it to his mouth. Perhaps a bit too quickly, as he winced at the burning sensation on his lips a second later. The food plunked down into its bath again as Ryuji took another cold drink to alleviate the burn. Akechi didn’t make a move aside from pulling out his phone and aiming it at his own bowl. Probably another blog memorial, Ryuji figured.

“No offense, but it’s kinda funny you’re telling me something like that when you said last time we met up that you don’t have any friends.” Ryuji adds, cradling the flesh of his lips as his voice is muffled. Akechi only remained silent as the shutter on his phone went off. He didn’t look up, but spoke as he typed out his post. 

“I understand. It’s hypocritical for someone with the number of friends I have to give you advice regarding them. Apologies, you just seem rather… down when you speak of them.”

Ryuji pauses. He’d… he’d feel better if he talked to Taisei. Yeah.

‘... are they really my friends…?’

_ I mean, yeah? They got your back, you got theirs - the thieves have always got us, Ryuji. Akira, Ann… they all got us. At least, I think they do. Save maybe that damn cat. _

‘When was the last time…?’

_ We’ll talk about it later, boy. You got company, remember? _

‘Right, right.’

Ryuji seems to snap back in from whatever daze he was in. Akechi was looking him in the eyes, emotionless aside from a tired glint in his eyes. “S-sorry about that, Akechi. Today was… bad.” Ryuji piped up,

“It’s alright, I understand. It’s just… I’ve seen quite a few cases of friendships and relationships gone awry. You wouldn’t believe how many American criminal assault and murder cases are motivated by social ties going wrong, so I like to remain aware of those sorts of things. It’s rather negative of me to say but, due to my line of work, I often second guess interpersonal relationships and remain wary of how they address me, how they think of me, our level of trust, petty things like that.” He drinks from his cup, the orange and yellow of whatever fruit was in the drink swirling up the length of the straw. A temporary silence airs between the two before Akechi hums. 

"Ah… apologies. That little bit about the relationship crimes… that was a bit unnecessary, wasn't it? I've been told that I tend to ramble quite a bit, so I apologize." Akechi offers that illusory smile of his, yet… Ryuji figures it’s not that fake. Something tells him that there might be some actual sympathy there, but Ryuji figures he might be imagining things. He reaches for the napkin that arrived with his bowl and gathers all the spuds stuck to his teeth and gums on his tongue. He takes the napkin and covers his mouth, releasing one big loogie sprinkled with plant matter into the cloth and placing it near his bowl. Akechi watches, and despite a disgusted wrinkle to the side of his mouth, he didn’t seem to have taken much issue with it. 

“Decided to follow my advice after all?” Akechi smiles.

“Eh. It gets kinda annoying after a while, I guess.”

Ryuji expected a scolding for being gross in public, but he supposes Akechi just wasn’t the sort.

* * *

Ryuji did not touch his food by the time Akechi finishes, and both set off for home. Akechi seems to wear a concerned expression, but in the end, said nothing. It was nice.

“Thanks for meetin’ me out here, Akechi.” Ryuji looks away, the takeout cup in his hands still warm. “I mean it. I appreciate you lettin’ me talk your ear off.”

“Haha… I should be saying the same. I was the one who invited you out for a petty talk like this. Regardless, thank you for accepting despite the last-minute timing of this whole ordeal.”

Ryuji feels the corners of his mouth turn up, for whatever reason. He wasn’t… smiling, or anything.

A sudden warmth falls over him, like being hit by a spotlight in the middle of a dark room. He feels whispering in the back of his skull.

** _ “I am thou…” _ **

The feeling was familiar, like he’d experienced the sensation before - not enough to be able to place it immediately, and not rare enough that it came out of left field.

** _ "Justice… arc...ana…" _ **

Ryuji found his gaze wandering to the ground, and corrects it. He straightens his neck, expecting another confused gaze from Akechi, only to find the boy in a similar trance. Akechi’s eyes were glazed over, the smile gone, his hair draping over his head and concealing facial features as though they were curtains, and - were his eyes yellow?

Ryuji didn’t have the time to dwell on it. Akechi quickly straightened out his back as well, facing Ryuji with big puppy eyes, another feature of Akechi’s trademark TV face. He appears to have snapped out of it.

“You sure you’re okay, man?” Ryuji offers.

“Yes, I’m quite alright.” Akechi replies, and pauses to look at the time on his phone. “Goodness, we’re quite late, aren’t we? The trains may not be running...”

“Shit.” Ryuji growls, “... Would you know a way to get back to Shibuya?

“... I think I know a shortcut. Hopefully, we can catch the last train. Follow me.” Akechi gestures, and Ryuji follows along, keeping the leftovers close as they navigate the streets. Akechi keeps pace ahead, enough that Ryuji can’t get lost, but still close by. There was one last train still going, at least, so they hop aboard.

* * *

The entire ride was empty and quiet. Akechi seems to be more aware of his surroundings, but Ryuji was heavily zoning out. They sit in silence, both sitting on the seats with one space’s difference, the only other people on the train being an elderly man in a suit and a tired-looking woman with a sleeping baby. Ryuji keeps staring ahead, into nothing. Akechi… does the same, if ahead is his phone. His brow creases as his neck dips lower to stare at the red light coming off of his phone and shining on his face.

_ Ryuji, Earth to space cadet! You alright? _

‘Yeah, I’m… I’m fine, Taisei.’

_ “Boy, don’t lie to your real self. You’re still thinkin’ on what detective fancy pants said, huh.” _

‘... A little.’

_ “A little? Man, it’s all your gears have been grinding!”  _

‘Sorry, man…’

_ “C’mon, boy. We know for a fact that these people are your friends, and doubting them happens, yo. We’re important, Ryuji. No matter what, the thieves are gonna keep us around. It was hell and high water to find that damn cat, they’d do the same for us!” _

‘... I… I dunno, Seiten. Really don’t feel like that’s the case.’

_ “Hey, now, no more of that, Ryuji! Ya tryin’ to convince ya true self of somethin’ that ain’t true. I am as I am ‘cause Akira, right? It means he cares.” _

‘... If that’s true, then why did he leave me there with those men in Red Light? 

_ “Uh…” _

‘And what about when the track team beat me up?’

_ “Hey, Ryuji. Let’s… let’s… look at the group chat - Hell, ping Akira! I bet not only noticed you’re gone, but they’re worried as hell. They care about you.” _

‘... My phone hasn’t gone off since I left, Taisei. No one’s messaged me.’

_ “Are ya sure? They had to have noticed us. They gotta, we’re always there!” _

‘... I’ll check, just to make you happy.’

Ryuji digs for his phone in his pocket. He pulls out the device, glancing at his lock screen - it was a selfie from when they went to Hawaii that he took with Akira, Yusuke, Ann, and Makoto. A ghost of a smile twitches on his

face, but proves his earlier point - no messages. Not from Akira, Makoto, or even Futaba, who was tracking his location a few days ago just to mock him. Akechi’s question echoes in his head once again, and Seiten Taisei speaks up.

_ “R-really…? Nothin’ at all? They never noticed us leaving after Morgana…? We’ve been gone for almost an HOUR!” _

‘... Yeah, I guess we have.’

_ “M-maybe something happened. We’ll check with’m tomorrow, okay?” _

Ryuji pockets his phone, the sound of the train screeching to a halt and the alert pulling him free from his conversation with Seiten Taisei. Akechi seems to be alert, already standing up.

“I’ll get home from here, man. Thanks again for dinner.” Ryuji stands as well and waves Akechi off, stepping out of the train. Akechi joins him, but Ryuji doesn’t think too much about it as he begins shuffling away in the direction of his apartment and leaving Akechi on his own without a look back. 

He continues homewards, keeping his head down as his brain wracks around with the ideas in his head. Ryuji’s phone buzzes, suddenly, and he pulls it out to check. It’s a text from Akechi, the notification bar over the eyes of his friends.

**Minty Lemon Palate: Good Night, Sakamoto. Tomorrow is a new day.**

'...I'm probably overthinking this shit, huh.'

Ryuji turns off his phone, and continues to his apartment, feeling like skipping school might be a good idea.


	3. The Ides of October

_ **SEPT 20** _

Monday brings an early morning headache along with the clamor of the busy train station. His feet are stuffed into his uniform loafers, with his neck choking in the turtleneck hugging his frame. Heels and business shoes echo throughout the terminal and Akira mechanically makes his way for the Ginza line to get to Shujin. Morgana keeps shifting his weight around in his school bag, popping out and diving back into the bag to avoid the eyes of those who felt a cat should not be on a train. His eyes dart between his feet and his phone when he suddenly feels a hand clap down on his shoulder.

“ ‘Sup dude.” A familiar voice pipes up. More weight presses up against Akira as he turns his head to look over at Ryuji, who is accompanied by Akira’s classmate, Ann. She has the most glazed over stare as she approaches the group, yawning wide and only partially covering her mouth with her hand that holds her phone.

  
“‘Mornin’.” She greets, lazily unlocking her phone and typing a message to whoever she was texting last - if Akira had to guess, it was Shiho. Mona pokes his nose out of the duffel and sighs, affection heavy in his voice.

  
“Good morning, Lady Ann!” He purrs. Ann only nods, more focused on her phone at the moment, while Akira catches the defeated sigh of Morgana getting ignored and ultimately rejected yet again.

No chance in hell, Morgana.

“So, are we heading into the palace today?” Ryuji smiles, sharp teeth and all. That smile’s infectious - Akira feels a smile of his own creeping up onto the corners of his mouth.

“Aren’t you a little excited? We only got Haru and Morgana back yesterday.” Akira grins, adjusting his glasses.  
  


“Yeah, I know, but I can’t help it! Whenever we get a new target I just wanna... head right in as soon as we can and start wrecking shop!” He whines, aggressively shoving his hands into his pockets. Before Akira could attempt a reply, Morgan’s already shuffling.

“Geez, you’re such a brute.” Morgana’s ears perk as his head pops out of the bag. “You already know that Joker never goes to the palaces this early! Why do you even bother asking, Ryuji?”

Ryuji only grimaces, his eyes narrowing, as he gets ready to bite back to Morgana’s prodding. Akira already feels a migraine coming on full blast. They're both gearing up for a fight, and Akira wants no part in it. Ann seems to be ignoring the two of them as well, twisting the tip of one pigtail around her finger in idle boredom.

“Who the hell are you callin’ a brute? I just wanted to know.” Ryuji replies, noticeably less defensive than usual - not as much cursing or vigor. It’s a good start towards respecting Morgana after their little spat, Akira notes.

“Next time, just trust us, alright? We should have everything ready to go in a few days, unless Joker had other plans?” Morgana complains, then hops onto Akira’s shoulder.

“Mmhm.” Akira hummed, more preoccupied with his phone than his talking cat and delinquent best friend.

“Yeah yeah, I got it, jerk.” Ryuji mumbles loud enough for Morgana to hear. 

'Hoo boy.'

“What was that!?”

“Nothing! Everything is just… peachy.”

“You called me a jerk! You’ve got some nerve, you stupid-”

“Oi! Just try it you effin’ little-”

“Ryuji!” Akira snaps, immediately grabbing both Ryuji and Morgana’s attention. Ryuji’s go wide and his posture changes instantly, deflating and looking away as Akira quickly grabs his wrist. Ryuji doesn’t bother to pull away. The train pulls into the station and no one seems to be the wiser. “We’ll be late if you make a scene now. Especially if it's yelling at a cat. Let's get going.” 

Akira pulls, and Ryuji resists a bit at first, only now attempting to jerk his hand away. Ann only passes into the train with a bored expression, paying no mind to either Morgana or Ryuji. Morgana’s tail flicks and he shoots Ryuji a look before he dips back into the Shujin embroidered sling bag. Akira raises an eyebrow and turns back at Ryuji, who frowns sharply and rubs the back of his neck. A sign of shame, if Akira remembers his Ryuji body language book (that he didn't have, but hey, they’ve been friends long enough).

“...Yeah. Sorry.” Ryuji’s grabbed hand grips Akira’s wrist in retaliation, before finally letting go. Ryuji meanders into the train with the rest of the bystanders that were boarding, now turning his attention to his phone. Akira follows shortly after with a tiny grin on his face.

_ ‘He’s just like a puppy...’ _Arsene muses, and Akira’s smile widens.

* * *

** _SEPT 30_ **

“Fuyuhiko Kanade.”  
  
“Candidate found. Mementos location saved.”  
  
“Otoko Fusagi.” 

“Candidate found. Mementos location saved.”

“Shion Kaito.”

“Candidate found. Mementos location saved.”

Goro basks in the delicate, weak beams of the rising sun that shines through the student council room windows. The room acts as his... hideout, of sorts, away from nosy kouhai and school faculty that had been seeking out their local detective prince, honor student, and celebrity. What the walls of this school never will know is that Goro had been cataloging assassination and mental sabotage the whole morning. He sits in a window seat, casually reading an English drama while rattling off his boss’s list of names to die through voice commands. Multitasking is nothing new for him - he once wrote a scientific thesis for a physics project while gunning down some poor bastard’s shadow in his own palace. At the time it was a strain, but in retrospect, he almost felt like a badass since he got an A on that paper. 

His stomach feels numb, displeased about his breakfast, and Goro’s growing bored with his work on both ends. As his thoughts drift, his gaze does too, and Goro chooses to instead glare down at the school’s front gates. Today was the usual trickle of early birds - the ones that ran inside with honest to god grins on their faces, skirts chasing skirts and morning chatter filling the air, - at least, that’s what Goro assumed. He can’t hear from where he was seated, perched above everybody else. Just like a crow, perched in a tree above a crowd of people.

_ You need friends. _

‘Cram it, Loki.’ 

Upon hearing (one of) his personas’ voices, he returns with laser focus to his paperback copy of “Water by the Spoonful”. It’s an English play, which joined the rapidly growing list of entries that had Goro under the impression his literature teacher was an American literature buff. He didn’t _ mind _ it, since he could both read and understand the themes despite them being in a more casual style of English.

_ I’m serious. A girlfriend too. _

_ Our young master hasn’t the time to court a maiden, much less find one that meets our standards. _

And now it’s in stereo.

He was already having a bad morning, waking up from another night terror, only to then sleep through his alarm, burn his toast breakfast, then forgetting a textbook at home - the list of annoyances grows every day.

_ It doesn’t have to be anything long term, though…! It’d be nice to have a cute girl to have swooning over us. I had a wife in my myth, you know. _

_ … Thou hast seen the trifles of heart on the television and in literature, and wishes it for thyself? You yearn for the maiden from your history…? _

_ Yeah! Romance isn’t that hard, anyway, just introduce yourself to a cute blond and let her get a look at your face, maybe a wink to sell it and you get the first date outta it! Maybe a lil’ more - _

_ So thou only wishes to plunder panties. How lewd! _

Not in the mood.

His brow crinkles as he attempts to focus on the play script again, forcing himself to keep away from the dialogue exchange in his head. It’ll escalate to yelling soon enough. He stares at the pages from his assigned book, something about a sandwich artist in New York who was a veteran that now struggled due to an injury during his service that he refused to stop training because of, and a music professor with an expensive piano, a priceless diploma, and an empty heart. He reads of the struggles of change, of a community of crackheads overcoming addiction, finding family, finding friendship, finding comfort in another - and it makes him want to vomit. The story is a nice tale of a nice group of characters in New York, some bullshit happy story with a happy ending with a found family trope and everybody holding hands and laughing in the end (at least, from what Goro gathered). He stops reading after one of the characters, Fountainhead, was yelled out of his chatroom by Chutesandladders about not getting to complain just because “he had a bad day”. 

Goro could agree with the sentiment.

Complaining to people who didn’t ask to hear your life story was a scenario Goro got stuck in a lot, and he hated it every single time. There were so many times where he got cornered by a fangirl, underclassman, or even both, just so that they could unleash all their stupid problems on him - much like Fountainhead, complaining of his crack dealer, his horrid wife, and his rotten job to people who didn’t want to hear it. 

Tough shit.

Keep it to yourself.

Goro grumbles before slapping a bookmark on the page he left off.

_ Our young master has said it to thou time and time again. He hath no interest in finding a mate to bed with, much less court - you KNOW this! _

_ Hey, Hood, I dunno if you know this, but you’re not the manifestation of his true self that he shoves his need to fu- _

Nope.

Not focusing on that.

He quickly returns to his phone, focusing on the background of the Metanav - still swirling with a black and red hue.

“Tetsumura Kanji.”

“Candidate not found.”

He grumbles again, instead glaring down at see more students entering the school grounds.

...Like watching down on ants under his boot.

* * *

** _ OCT 2 _ **

Akira’s plans for today… were a lot different than what actually happened. He originally wanted to see Futaba once more before going into Kunikazu Okumura’s palace - her navigator abilities would make Kunikazu Okumura’s palace easier.

Fate is a cruel mistress.

As Akira wanders from his classroom to head home, he’s quickly distracted by the tall figure bumbling in the halls. The hair was unmistakable - especially considering how it meandered, smacking into students without a clue of where to go.

Finally, Yusuke finds his way to the stairs that lead to the roof - if he noticed Akira watching him flounder through the halls (or, noticed Akira at all), he didn’t say anything. Akira, much to the protest of Morgana in his bag, follows Yusuke up the stairs, figuring that it can’t hurt to know what he’s doing so far from Kosei - especially if he’s going to the roof. Makoto had already scolded each and every one of them over meeting on the rooftop, but… it’s not like she cares anymore, now that she’s on the team. Akira pushes the heavy rooftop doors open and is greeted to the sight of Yusuke and Haru. 

Haru’s wearing her Shujin tracksuit, which seems a few sizes too big for her - but she doesn’t seem to mind. She’s delicately digging up roots and moving them from big white industrial planters into clay pots. Yusuke… seems to be assisting her - he’s arranging the flowers still in the industrial planters into color groups. Blue hydrangeas with blue hydrangeas, purple morning glories with purple morning glories. From what little gardening experience Akira had from his part-time job, he could tell that Yusuke... wasn’t helping much. 

Upon further inspection, it appears Yusuke is also juggling a sketchbook, slathered in black and white paint from whatever his newest creation was.

_ L’Emperor seems rather preoccupied today, hm? _

‘He’s just weird like that.’

_ Ah, but he does not fully trust you, oui? _

‘Not yet. I can feel it, though - he likes me enough. Ryuji’s the only one who really cares about me right now.’

_ Ah, oui...A shame those monkey jokes had to come true, hm? Still handsome, I suppose. _

  
Akira continues watching from afar as Yusuke takes a break from reorganizing to plop himself next to Haru, watching her intently after adding a bit of black paint. If Haru noticed any lack of personal space, she didn’t act on it - instead only giggling a little at the face Yusuke makes as he paints. If Haru had been Ann, Ann would have melted Yusuke into water. 

Haru was too much of a pushover.

Before Akira could approach at all, Haru glances up from her work and spots him.

“Kurusu-Kun!” She calls, clapping her hands together, as she smiles, pleased to have yet another friend meet her. Yusuke’s gaze follows Haru’s, almost glaring at Akira before giving a simple nod and focusing back on his art.

Casual as always.

Akira smiles, taking to leaning on one of the air vents to watch them work.

“How are my favorite beauty thief and art weirdo doing today?” Akira asks, taking note of Morgana poking out of his bag to join the conversation. Haru opens her mouth to respond, face a bit flushed, while Yusuke shoots Akira an unreadable look. Haru’s clearly not used to praise.

“Okumura-san asked me to visit the rooftops with her. I asked if she would be my model for a few experimental paintings appointed to me by my instructor, hence why I’m here.” He deadpans, returning his focus to his sketchbook and fumbling with his set of brushes. Haru pats her soil caked hands on her lap, chuckling to herself.

“It was a rather sudden request Kita-kun! After a Phantom Thieves meeting about a week ago he asked if I could be the subject of his next piece, of course, I accepted!” She hugs her knees close to her chest, staring down her flowers. “I always entertained the idea of having my portrait done, seeing all the long hallways dotted with handmade pictures of flowers, backdrops, and people… it made me want to make my own art to hang in the halls. Though, I can’t say my own work would be good enough to display beside professional paintings.” She laughs, a bit sad. The comment about herself bypasses Yusuke completely, like he couldn’t process it. Haru continues.

“My schedule has been rather packed lately, and today was the best day to meet, though I still needed to work on the garden. It’s nice to have help, though.” She smiles at Yusuke, who raises his fingers to make a frame, one eye closed as he attempts to start another painting.  
  


“Yo! Haru!” A loud voice booms from the rooftop doors. Akira didn’t even register it was Ryuji until he spots bottle-blond hair slipping out the door. He carries a stack of terracotta flower pots in both arms, cradling them close to his chest and visibly struggling with the weight of said pots.

“I gotcha the pots you wanted, the American 12 inches, right?” Ryuji asks, delicately setting the pots down to avoid any breaking. As he stands back up, his chest puffs out in pride. Haru smiles and grips the stack with her hands, pulling them closer to her and Yusuke.

“Yes! Thank you so much Saka-kun!” She giggles, pulling one out and handing it to Yusuke, who struggles to carry it and his sketchbook. Ryuji rubs the back of his neck and looks away. “S-s’nothin…” He mutters, a little flushed.

Textbook embarrassment and bewilderment.

Akira could write a book on his best friend’s quirks if he wasn’t busy babysitting six other teens... and a (bastard) cat. 

Ryuji only seems to notice Akira after hearing a muffled chuckle come out of the guy.

“Hey, dude! When’d you get here?” Ryuji asks, shoving his hands in his pockets. Akira adjusts his glasses with one finger.

“Unobservant as always I see.” Akira chuckles, raising his brows beneath the glass. It may not have been obvious right away, but his comment struck one of Ryuji’s nerves - however, Ryuji blows down his anger. Probably because he doesn’t want to spook Haru with arguing.

“Man, shut up. My head’s been hurtin’ all morning.” Ryuji frowns.

‘He’s exaggerating.’

_ Perhaps he’s just suffering from staying up all night trying to study. _

“Saka-kun, do you need a break?” Haru asks, stopping her work. “If your head hurts, you shouldn’t be doing physical labor!”

Ryuji jolts back at the sudden concern, freezing in place until Akira clears his throat.

“Uh- nah, I’m fine! It’s just a little one! I’m all good!” Ryuji laughs. 

Defense mechanism, he laughs to take focus away from him, despite how incredibly well that’s worked for him in the past.

‘I’m sure he’s fine.’

_ Our little Chariot has dealt with worse, a simple headache will not slow him. _

‘It’s Ryuji. He can handle whatever anybody puts on him.’

_ Even so. Lend the boy a hand, wild card. _

“Are you quite sure, Ryuji-kun?” Haru presses again, before Akira cuts in.

“I’ll help him with the next few pots. Here, hold Mona for me.” Akira shrugs the sling bag off of his shoulder and drops it into Haru’s arms. She unzips the bag to uncover a slightly shaken Morgana. 

“Hello there, Mona-chan!” She scoops Morgana up in her arms and gives the kitty a cuddle, nuzzling the side of his face with her own cheek. 

“H-hey! C’mon! Quit manhandling me!” He grunts in annoyance - yet anyone who's been around Morgana long enough (or, perhaps, knew enough about cat behavior) could tell he was enjoying himself by the upright tail.

“Well?” Akira turns to Ryuji, who was watching Morgana and Haru’s little reunion. Ryuji seems to be pulled out of his daze.

“Yeah, the float is on the ground floor. I’ll show ya.” Ryuji turns, waving his hand for Akira to follow. 

The two begin descending staircase after staircase, dodging the after school club members that were still around and rushing to and fro. Ryuji gets the brunt of the hits from passerby, either from Akira being able to easily dodge shoulders and knees - or Ryuji just not paying attention as he types on his phone.

“Who are you texting?” Akira asks, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity. Ryuji curses under his breath with a smirk ghosting his face. When he registers Akira asked him a question, his entire posture changes in seconds - from lax to tense. Akira pretends not to notice.

“N-nobody.” Ryuji hesitantly answers, until Akira snatches his phone out of his hand. Maxed out proficiency, baby.

“Hey! C’mon! Give it back Akira!” Ryuji whines as he reaches for his phone, currently in Akira’s outstretched hand in a game of keep-away. “Dude, the hell! Are you like, seven or something? Give me back my goddamn phone!”

Ignoring Ryuji in full, he punches in Ryuji’s passcode (12321 - Basic knowledge) and gets to reading.

**Minty Lemon Palate: You seem rather ecstatic to be showing me flowers. I didn’t take you as the sort for gardening or botany.**

**Ryuji: man shut up. im just sayin sometimes people like to see a flower pic rather than a damn selfie**

**Minty Lemon Palate: You would be surprised just how many more likes and comments are on selfies than setting and food pictures.**

"Chatting up an e-boy?" Akira sneers, still pushing Ryuji away. 

_ A peculiar name for his phone. Perhaps he’s making friends outside of us? _

‘Doubt it.’

"Akira! Hand it over!" Ryuji growls, still attempting to reach for his phone.

“Relax Ryuji, lemme just say hi to Mr. Minty.” Akira teases, already typing something out with a snicker. Sure, it’s schoolyard bullying, but he oh so loves messing with his buddy. Who else can he tease like this?

“I said knock it o-”

Akira gasps as a sudden weight rams into his side - Ryuji had been tripped by another student, which sent him crashing into Akira. The phone slips out of Akira’s hands, and he attempts to reach for it before it hits the ground.

Keyword being attempt.

He gets his hand caught on Ryuji’s sleeve, which causes Ryuji to fall on him instead of the ground. The phone… however… fared less well. Ryuji pushes Akira away and stands up, walking over to grab his phone. Upon inspection, a deep crack running diagonally across, from top to bottom has formed. Not too big, but not very small either. Definitely noticeable. 

“Is it-” Akira stammers... He watches as Ryuji sighs and curses under his breath, tapping the lock screen with his code again.

“Ryuji, I’m sorry. I’ll buy you a new phone, or I can get it replaced, or-”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Ryuji jams his phone back into his pocket, a light grimace fading from his face as he does. Akira hops to his feet, but he can feel the icy tension radiating off Ryuji.

“C’mon dude, those pots ain’t gonna get themselves.” Ryuji growls.

“...the phone thing. Are you sure? It’s not that big of a deal, I can afford it.” Akira presses. Ryuji just raises his arms in the air and stretches his back.

“S’no big deal. Just a dumb crack. Thing still works just fine.” Ryuji shrugs it off, rather calm despite the brand new damage to his screen. He turns away from Akira and makes his way to the entrance. “C’mon, let’s get this shit to Haru.”

Akira pauses, then follows, letting himself store the guilt away.

‘He… took that rather well.’

* * *

_ **OCT 2** _

_ Miss Niijima approaches. _

_ Oh joy. _

Akechi perks at the warning from his personas. He fixes his posture, his back aching in displeasure with the change from slumped shoulders to straight back with crossed legs in his wobbly office chair. The door opens, and Sae appears.

"Morning, Akechi-kun." She greets with a heavy sigh, then places her purse on a table in the corner of the room. Her heels click with every step closer to the evidence table that he was sitting at. He takes one last sip of his to-go coffee, then slides away from dossiers and bagged evidence laid out in front of him.

"Morning, Sae-san. You're a little late today. Were the trains slow?"

_ Do you have a damn death wish? _

"No, I had to wake up my sister for school this morning." She takes a seat, scanning over the documents closest to her.

"She's usually so good about getting up on time… anyway, this is the case of the principal at Makoto's school, correct? The suicide?"

Akechi nods, already craving more coffee, but neglects the desire in favor of snatching a paper from his far left. "Correct, the truck that caused the incident has given testimony that makes me consider another possible angle to approach his death, however."

Sae raises a brow, which seems to be her tell for 'yes, go on'. The things Akechi learns about his co-workers from years of working with them…

"The driver drew attention to the eyes in particular. Specifically, the pupils weren't visible. The eyes normally fall into a neutral position after death, but this corpse's pupils were rolled back."

"And what, pray tell, does that tell you?" Sae snaps, her irritation getting the better of her already.

_ Geez…cranky… _

"...I pulled a file from a similar suicide from a few years ago." He slides the paper to Sae, who skims over the text with cold eyes. She slaps her hand over it with too much vigor before sliding it back over to Goro.

"...if you have time to go skimming through more of those folders from years ago to chase a lead I already told you was a dead end, you have time to go find new testimony. Get me something before the end of the day." Sae spats, her gaze unrelenting and venomous. Every day Akechi feels like he shrinks under her glare, and it grows icier every day. It might as well save them money on air conditioning.

_ It would appear thoust hit a nerve. _

_ Bitch. _

'Be nice. She's stressed.' Akechi snaps at Loki.

_ You seriously tellin’ yourself this shit? We can't wait til she gets hit. _

_ Thou hast gone far enough, Loki. _

Akechi watches as Sae pinches the bridge of her nose, then stands up to fetch some coffee from the appointed table in the corner of the meeting room.

"Apologies, Akechi-kun. This Phantom Thieves nonsense has been stressing me out." She pulls a paper cup from the stack next to the machine. "Though… it's probably no better for you either. I saw the interview this morning."

Akechi shudders, remembering the feeling of being on that stage and quickly swallowing it away. The light that he normally baths in now burns his face. The smiles of the audience shifts to crescent-shaped daggers, with his blood running cold in fear.

Act, Akechi. It isn't that big of a deal. Act.

He smiles. "It has been rather bad for morale, my social media is aflame with quite a few hate messages, I got similarly scornful messages on a picture of a crepe I took just the other day." He throws in a half-laugh for good measure. His insides boil, just thinking of the messages he read on the way to the TV station that morning.

Sae gives a concerned look.

"Do people not have any time on their hands? A damn food picture? Really?" Her heels click as she walks to join Akechi at the table he’s sitting at, but at the opposite end. She runs a hand through her hair, then takes a delicate sip of her lukewarm instant coffee. "We just need one slip-up. Just one." 

“Do you not believe you’re obsessing a little too much with this Phantom Thieves situation?” Akechi questions, picking up his cup to take a drink, but pauses when Sae speaks first. 

“You should be more worried.” She replies, not even bothering to look at him anymore. “Their popularity is at the point where I wouldn’t be surprised if copycat vigilantes began to pop up. Not to mention, you’re the poster boy against these public icons. That puts you in danger of being physically attacked by fans.”

“I assure you, Sae-san, you don’t need to worry about me. I can handle myself.” Akechi mumbles into his cup after taking a sip. Sae chuckles at him.

“May I remind you of when we were both jumped by a common burglar? And I had to fight him off, breaking the heel on my shoe?” She smiles, clearly enjoying the memory. Akechi only finds himself wincing. She continues, ignoring his reactions. “And then when I asked you to fill out the forms for said burglar you refused, saying you were too busy. I then treated you to lunch, which, may I mention, you have several lunches and dinners that you need to make up to me, including the one from last night.”

_ Oh my gooooooooooooood. Can she EVER let ANYTHING go!? _

_ Thou knows the lady is in a similar vessel as I and thee. _

_ Bullshit. She has that stupid sister of hers OR school, yet we- _

‘Can you shut the fuck up?’ Akechi snaps in his head, forcing his smile wider to mask his irritation.

“...I apologize, Sae-san. I’m busy tonight but… I would be willing to pay for dinner tomorrow.” He offers, unconsciously shrinking into the wobbling chair.

“No need.” She flips through a binder, licking her thumb to help her flip through the laminated pages. “I’m busy all week. Not to mention, I need to connect this case to the Phantom Thieves. Which will be difficult given how they don’t leave any physical evidence aside from calling cards.”

“Speaking of calling cards, Sae-san, I wanted to-”

“Did you have the previous cards checked for hallucinogens? Maybe the cards are used to knock out the recipient before they’re carted off by the group.”

“Sae-sa-”

“No… that couldn’t be the case… Medjed and Kaneshiro were inaccessible to the police… how on earth would they have done it… are there perhaps trackers in the card…?”

“Sae-san!”

Sae snaps out of her ramblings, meeting eyes with Akechi. She grumbles and stands up. “...sorry. I’m probably… just stressed. I’ll take this outside and get some air.” 

Her chair makes nasty scrape as she scoops up the binder and leaves the room, leaving Akechi by himself.

_ ...Lady Niijima seems rather enamored by the thieves. _

Akechi gets up as well, his chair tipping mid stand and squeaking something horrible. He discards all documents he had previously piled up and winces as a migraine catches him off guard. He doesn’t hesitate to slug down more coffee, belatedly noticing it wasn’t quite as hot anymore. Dark red eyes fall on the paper he attempted to show Sae earlier, with a paperclip affixing an aged photograph to the corner. It was of a woman, in a bob cut with sad, grey eyes and glasses - she stares back at him. 

_ Remember her? _

‘Stow it.’ Akechi is too tired for this. He takes his belongings and leaves the same way Sae did. He descends the staircase, catching chatter from the cubicles below - but jabbering didn’t matter much to him. The volume of the station TVs were cranked up far too loud, blasting a voice Akechi remembers well.

They were watching the news.

When he reaches the ground floor of the station, he glimpses the TV from afar. Some officers clamber down in front of the screen and watch intently as Akechi gets dragged by westerners on live television. 

_ Fie! Detestable wretches! Surely they hast better to do than watch us be ridiculed! _

_ They’re all damn assholes, without a thought in their heads. No wonder they’re so damn corrupt. _

Akechi goes to leave, before stopping short to wave to the desk woman - a meek, tiny woman in a too-large uniform, who beckons him over. She smiles politely, and Akechi forces a smile of his own.

“Tanaka-san lost a bet and had to buy donuts for the whole station. He got you one too, Akechi-kun!” She lifts a light pink box and pulls its flap open to reveal a golden brown donut with flecks of purple underneath its deep-fried crust.

_ Dost this be purple sweet potato? _

Akechi shoots a brighter plastic smile at the desk person before taking the confection in one of the pink lacy napkins he was offered. The box was sticky with crumbs from all of the donuts that were probably torn out by the gluttonous officers sitting not even a few meters away. 

“If Prosecutor Niijima asks, I took the day off to do more research on the database from home.” He excuses himself as the desk person gives another grin. He pushes through the heavy doors and makes way for the station. Mindlessly, he takes a bite of his lunch.

_ Not sweet enough… Gah, all I can hear is our stomach - this ain’t gonna help! _

_ Nay, a lack of sugar is welcome. The young master needs to watch his blood sugar - and we’re fine until we get home, Loki. We ought to keep our appearance while we can be seen. _

_ But I’m hungry, Robin! He doesn’t eat enough for all of us! _

Akechi ignores them in favor of looking at the site of his bite. Underneath the brown skin, there was the vibrant purple color ube was known for. 

‘This could make for a good food blog photo.’ He muses, before recalling the interview that morning. Regardless, he takes a photo.

‘That’s not going anywhere with all the shit brewing right now.’

Regardless, it wasn’t every day that he got the chance to eat a donut, so he kept the photo to upload later on when the media storm died down. Though, thinking about it, his smile wasn’t as bright as he would have liked it to be, so he might need to retake the photo... However, the donut was gone before he could get another good picture. 

They never lasted long enough.

Always too light and easy to finish, finishing one off always left him feeling as empty as the hole in the middle. Even if it was the cheesiest way to put it.

He brushes sticky glaze off of his gloves and onto the napkin, his phone buzzes. He picks up the phone with his right hand, noticing a message from Sakamoto. He opens. noticing the sent image attachment was a photo of some kind of flowers.

**Ryuji: shove some of these on your gram**

Ryuji sent a photo: It’s a picture of some potted hydrangea flowers.

**Goro Akechi: You seem rather ecstatic to be showing me flowers. I didn’t take you as the sort for gardening or botany.**

**Sakamoto: man shut up. im just sayin sometimes people like to see a flower pic rather than a damn selfie**

**Goro Akechi: You would be surprised just how many more likes and comments are on selfies than setting and food pictures.**

He expects another text back, the swirling icon indicative of the recipient typing a message - but the bubble suddenly disappears. Goro was left without an answer from Ryuji for another good fifteen minutes - He doesn't seem like the sort to leave someone on hold like that. After longer than he’d admit of staring at the screen and stupidly hoping for that icon to kick up again, Goro simply shrugs it off and abstains from sending any more messages. Perhaps Sakamoto just… grew disinterested in the topic. Yeah, that.

_ I’m certain the young Sakamoto might have… just run into a hindrance on his end. _

_ Or he’s ignoring us. Our fault for having our hopes up. _

He didn’t expect an answer back. He didn’t... mind if Sakamoto didn’t want to chat. They very rarely casually texted, anyway. If they ever did, it was usually about meeting up for food. Why would someone who only wanted to join him when he paid for food want to talk outside of dinner? That reasoning worked to damper Goro’s hope enough for him to move on. In the time that he had been left on read, he had stopped by a vending machine for a canned black coffee and boarded a train for Shibuya. He rolls the chilled can over his black gloves, just barely feeling a tinge of cold on his fingertips. 

_ I am certain there is a reason for the young Sakamoto’s sudden departure. _

‘What the hell gave you the impression that I care?’

_ Mostly the sad puppy look you’re making while you’re playing with a full can and checking your phone. Kinda hard to ignore you when we’re you. _

_ Loki’s degeneracy and Sakamoto’s unresponsiveness aside, I ought to remind thee, young master, of the incoming deadline. _

‘I know the damn deadline.’

_ You’ve been slacking off on it for somebody who knows the deadline. _

‘Stow it. I don’t need to kill myself in another palace when the bastard thinks I can handle what I have as it is.’

_ However, relying on the chance opportunity that you will be free to pursue the Phantom Thieves into Kunikazu Okumura’s palace amidst other quests… the timing that would require- _

‘Isn’t that big of a deal. You worry too much.’

_ I am thou. _

‘And thou art I. And if thou art I, thou will clam up and let me wind down.’

_ That immature insistence and saving missions for the last moment will be the death of all of us. _

_ He welcomes death, Hood. You and I both know that. _

He gets a message back about 3 minutes into the ride.

**Sakamoto: sorry phone trouble**

Goro responds rather quickly, pleased to have a distraction from his personas.

**Goro Akechi: For so long? Is service in Shujin truly so horrid?**

The typing notification swirls for a bit, then stops for a moment. It kicks back up again after a pause.

**Sakamoto: nah i dropped my phone** ****

**Sakamoto: it's got a buncha cracks in it now** ****

**Goro Akechi: Oh, I apologize.**

That was really all he could send? Wait, why does he even care?

**  
** **  
** **Sakamoto: not your fault, i was bein dumb and dropped it** ****

**Goro Akechi: Would you have the funds to repair it?**

**  
** **  
** **Sakamoto: not rn but i can save up my allowance, it’s all good** **  
** ****

**  
** **Goro Akechi: I see.** **  
** ****

**  
** **Sakamoto: anyway im feelin kinda out of it today ** ****

**Sakamoto: so can we meet up to get dinner or something**

**  
** **  
** **Goro Akechi: I was under the impression that you weren’t in the mood to go out.**

**  
** **  
** **Sakamoto: yeah well**

**  
** **  
** **Sakamoto: if i show up anywhere and say that I’m with you i’ll probly get good service yeah?**

Goro’s chest hurts a bit. He can’t pinpoint why.

**Goro Akechi: I understand. **

**Sakamoto: so you wanna head to that french place again**

**Goro Akechi: If that’s where you would like to go, I’d be happy to oblige.**

**Sakamoto: yeah but im askin if you wanna go, don’t just say yes cuz that’s what i want, i chose the last place so you should pick the next one**

He doesn’t have time for such a foolish back and forth over where to eat.

**Goro Akechi: I was actually thinking of Incroyable as well, I still have to try their fall menu before it changes.**

**Ryuji: sick, meet you there later**

**Goro Akechi: Of course.**

Akechi clicks his phone closed, stuffing it into his pocket. He gazes out the window, cracking open his coffee, already feeling the caffeine buzzing his brain back to life. Emptying his mind of any thoughts, he gingerly sips at his beverage as the train carries him home.

* * *

_ OCT 9 _

  
Makoto had warned him yesterday about a small police investigation. Nothing too big, merely a follow-up to the investigation of the principal's office after the Hawaii trip. Ideally, it was just a formality to send in some officers and a detective to sweep the scene a few times before closing the investigation. Kunikazu’s palace was already cleared out, the calling card sent and the bastard’s change of heart pending. He wants to go out and celebrate, maybe a quick lunch with Ryuji at a fast food place nearby. Nothing fancy, yet - they would save it for the real celebration after Kunikazu Okumura came out to the press. He jogs to the staircase where he knows Ryuji will be around lunch, but…

Not a blonde soul in sight.

“It’s Friday.” Morgana meow, muffled from inside the bag. Remembering Ryuji’s usual Friday lunch schedule, Akira bolts down the stairs to meet him. Alas, that is where Akira remembers warnings of a police investigation. It seems nobody expects one of the officers assigned to the school today would be a celebrity.

A celebrity that was chatting with the local delinquent.

“They always sell out of it way too damn quick, it should be a goddamn crime.” Ryuji sighs, twisting his back to try and get it to pop, while Goro Akechi is at his side with his phone in hand. Laughing rather fakely.

“I understand the sentiment. My school sells it as well, but I’m not close to being fast enough to buy it myself before it’s all gone. I usually bring my own lunch anyhow.”

“That’s such a pain in the ass though. Sure, the shit they sell here ain’t great, but I don’t got time in the morning to pack a bento. My mom doesn’t either. I just get the cafeteria shit.”  
  


“Hm. I used to get a melon pan from my middle school as it was the only thing that never fell in quality, but I suppose I just stopped buying cafeteria food when I got into junior high.”

“Ryuji.” Akira interrupts. Ryuji flinches when he sees Akira suddenly at his side. Goro’s neutral smile doesn’t waver for even a second.

“Hello there. Nice to see you again, Kurusu-kun.” Goro greets, his posture prim and his uniform clean. As always.

“Hey Akira, check what I got!” Ryuji lights up, gaining Akira’s undivided attention. Ryuji produces two vacuum wrapped buns - more specifically - two yakisoba pans.

“You actually managed to get two…?” Akira whispers, while Goro just chuckles.

“Only two? There are three of us though, right?”

“Dude, you showed up five seconds ago, this is for me n’ Akira.” Ryuji protests.

“Ah, of course. I was... making a little joke, though, I apologize if it didn’t come off that way.”

“He is so goddamn weird.” Ryuji whispers, leaning in towards Akira as he speaks. Akira only nods.

“So, what brings thee to our wee little branch of the woods, oh sir Akechi?”

“You always did come up with better wisecracks. Don’t worry, I’m here strictly on business. The officers that came with me are just outside, asking students questions regarding the school on the day of the recent incident.” Akechi comments, pressing a finger to the bridge of his nose.

“Incident? Oh, you mean the principal? Wasn’t that shit just him gettin’ in an accident? Didn’t think that’s what the police were gettin’ on our asses for…” Ryuji rubs his head, confused.

“At the moment, that’s all this is. But… with all the mysterious happenings as of late due to… certain individuals…” Ryuji glances at Akira, who returns the same look. Akira can feel Morgana twitch in the bag. 

“...The police would just like to be sure. So… an associate of mine sent me to investigate the office once more.” Goro finished, tilting his head all innocent-like.

“Well, if it’ll getcha out of our hair faster, I’ll show ya.” Ryuji slumps over, stuffing the two yakisoba pans into his bag.

“I’ll come along too. Can’t have the detective getting all the ladies on the way there.” Akira adds. Akechi and Ryuji fell silent, only with Akechi giving a small chuckle and Ryuji sighing.

“Dude. The hell?”

As Akira predicted, their little entourage of delinquent, detective prince, and not so delinquent did not go without notice, especially by the female student population. The second floor is filled with whispers “omg”’s and “it’s him”s, which only makes Ryuji vibrate with jealousy. Akira knows he always does when watching Goro Akechi living in the ladies man fantasy that he accepted he would never have for himself. Akira knew how much Ryuji envies Akechi, perhaps too much.

“SO damn unfair.” Ryuji hisses under his breath, only for Akira to hear.

“Y’know, maybe you should go brunette. See if that helps. It seems to be working well for him.” Akira jokes, earning a look.

“Forreal? No effin way, I’m stickin to blonde.”

“I guess only blonde really looks good on you. I could probably strut any color you gave me though. We should get rainbow dos together, set up in Akihabara and land some chicks.”

“Dude! Girls ain’t into weird colors like that, I just haven’t found a girl that likes blondes yet, whatever.”

“If you could get over your girl-chasing fantasies for just a moment.” A voice squeaks from a muffled space. 

Morgana.

“Man, shut up.” Ryuji murmurs, still careful not to let unwelcome detective ears hear.

“Anyway! I hope you both realize that the police are making an attempt to connect the death of your principal to the Phantom Thieves!” Morgana yelps when Akira swings his bag off of his shoulder to bring it to his chest and unzip it. He holds the bag so that Akechi wouldn’t see from where he was, while the detective entertains what seemed like the 5th girl to wander into his crosshairs.

“They can’t do it. There’s no evidence. Nothing to tie us to Kobayakawa.” Akira scolds. Morgana opens his mouth to make a snide remark, but is interrupted.

“You really think the police can just make a connection like that? Like Akira said, we never touched him. There’s nothin’ they can do to make that shit our fault.” Ryuji agrees, which only makes Morgana sigh.

“Just keep your eyes open. They could be getting desperate. Get a dog in a corner and it’ll bite back.” He grumbles, then dives back into the bag. Akira quickly zips it closed and slings it back around his shoulder.

“I dunno about you Akira, but this... dog doesn’t look desperate for anything. He just seems like he doesn’t wanna be here.” Ryuji gestures to Akechi and rolls his eyes at the sight, with the detective now being hounded by two girls instead of one. In fact, two completely different girls than earlier.

“SO goddamn unfair!” Ryuji groans, still careful to be quiet. Akira smiles and adjusts his glasses, glancing at Detective Lady Killer himself.

“I dunno, he seems more like a snake than a dog. He’s got that air of danger with a touch of cuteness like what you get in a garden snake.”

“Dude, did you just call him cute?” Ryuji deadpans. 

‘Not as cute as you.’

“The ugly cute, like a pug.” Akira defends.

“I thought you said he was a snake.” Ryuji argues back.

“The students at your school are rather friendly, Kurusu-kun, Sakamoto-kun.” Akechi pipes up, breaking up the hush circle between Ryuji and Akira.

“Yeah yeah, hope you’re enjoyin’ yourself.” Ryuji mumbles. 

Somewhere between talking about hair dye and Goro Akechi’s likeness to a dog, the three had made it to the third floor.

“Yes, the Phantom Thieves have been rather popular lately, what with the recent defense against the imminent threat of Medjed. The public didn’t seem to be confident in their ability to counter an online entity, considering all of their previous targets that were forced into a confession.” Goro prattles, getting a weird look from both Ryuji and Akira.

“...dude, the hell you talkin’ about?” Ryuji shoves his hands in his pockets and raises a brow at Akechi.

“The Phantom Thieves of Hearts. Were we not discussing them?” Akechi blinks, face written with confusion. “I apologize if I misheard things, I am taking up your lunchtime by asking for guidance, I suppose.”

Ryuji goes wide-eyed for a moment, then blinks. “U-uh… yeah. I-it’s no biggie I guess.” He lowers his gaze to the floor and stuffs his hands in his pockets, going silent.

“The office is at the end of this hall.” Akira states, stopping in his tracks. Goro did the same, while Ryuji continued forward to stop and lean on the opposite wall of the staircase. Goro sighs. 

“Well, thank you kindly for guiding me, Kurusu-kun. Perhaps we’ll cross paths again at the coffee shop.” Goro holds out his hand, planning on shaking Akira’s hand as thanks. Akira remains still, not planning on letting his hands out of his pockets.

“Hopefully. Be seeing you.”

Goro withdraws that hand and gives a coy wave with it as he leaves Akira’s side, while Akira joins Ryuji to get his take on things.

“You holding up alright?

"Huh!?" Ryuji flinches, as if Akira appeared out of nowhere. "Y-yeah, m' fine. Don’t worry about it.”

‘He’s thinking too hard about something.’

_ L’Chariot will pop a vessel if he keeps that up. We cannot afford a new thief if it does. _

“You look like one of those red-light district men flagged you down again.” Akira snickers.

“Shut it. I’m still effin mad at you for that.” Ryuji snaps, crossing his arms and smacking his head against the wall. Akira smiles and takes to standing next to his friend, leaning on the same wall. They stand in silence, with Akira catching glance down the farther end of the hall that Akechi left down. The detective had been stopped by a girl in a pink sweater and fluffy chestnut-colored hair. The two are chatting, Goro smiling (which he seemed to never stop doing) while Haru offers her hand for a handshake, which Goro partakes in.

“Looks like they’re buddies.” Akira comments mindlessly, feeling the hard surface press against his lower back.

“So’re we.” Ryuji replies, riffling through his bag and whipping out the yakisoba pan. He offers it to Akira, who snatches it with a grin, ripping away the wrapping like a feral beast that hadn’t eaten for days. Ryuji does the same.

“We still gotta do a celebration for Haru too, yeah?” Ryuji asks, taking a giant bite of noodles, sauce, and bread - no consideration for how it would look to voyeurs as he crams as much in his mouth as he can manage.

“I think I heard somebody mention that there would be a press conference tomorrow. We can think of something to do before it happens, maybe party and watch it when it comes on?” Akira answers with a more modest bite, the salty, savory goodness of the carbs flooding his senses.

“Hell yeah. To Kunikazu Okumura gettin his just desserts.” Ryuji holds up his half-wrapped bread, waiting for something. Akira laughs, briefly touching his food to Ryuji’s.

“This’ll be good.” 

* * *

** _OCT 26_ **

**Goro: I suggest not saying anything remotely out of the ordinary, be sure to keep any impulse or sudden outbursts in check as well.**

**Ryuji: you make it sound like I overreact to everything**

**Goro: I apologize if that’s what I made it sound like. The officers coming to your school are there to weed out anybody that could match with a phantom thief’s description.**

**Ryuji: i thought there werent no descriptions????**

**Goro: There aren’t, and that makes them more volatile to jumping the gun and suspecting innocents of being culprits. It’s sad that this is the case, but it is.**

**Ryuji: right**

**Ryuji: so i just gotta play good boy???**

**Goro: That’s one way of putting it I suppose.**

**Ryuji: fiiiiine**

**Goro: As a detective, I believe that that’s the best advice I can give you to avoid causing an upset. Just cooperate and go along and everything should be fine, I promise Sakamoto-kun.**

**Ryuji: thanks**

**Ryuji: just cant believe shit got so bad that people are turning on the phantom thieves after that okumura guy died**

**Goro: I take that to mean that you still believe in them?**

**Ryuji: hell yeah of course i do!! Why wouldnt i???**

**Ryuji: they dont kill people!! why would they start killin people now! it just doesnt make sense akechi!**

**Goro: I understand your frustration. Truly. As a detective… I’m finding myself wondering just what the reason behind this sudden turn in their actions is.**

**Goro: Rather… I’m wondering if an external element of some sort is involved in this. Public opinion was overwhelmingly positive up until now, which begs the question. Why on Earth would the Phantom Thieves build up all of this attention and fame only to throw it all away by killing their latest target? Specifically, why a target decided upon by a popular vote?**

**Ryuji: in japanese please???? man i dont get your fancy pants vocab sometimes**

**Goro: Apologies. But what I’m saying is that the clues just don’t match up. There’s no good reason for the phantom thieves to start changing their modus operandi only after they’ve gained positive opinion.**

**Ryuji: the hell does modus operandi mean??**

**Goro: Think of it as the way that a task is done, like how a chef probably cooks one dish one way most times, or how serial criminals commit crimes in a similar fashion every time. A change in the modus operandi is similar to someone who puts cereal in the bowl before milk for years on end suddenly changing that pattern and putting milk before cereal.**

**Ryuji: so like changin the pattern?**

**Goro: Precisely. Why would the Phantom Thieves only now change their pattern, especially when with the positive attention, they only stand to gain from following that pattern? **

**Ryuji: yeah!!! thats what ive been sayin!!**

**  
** **Goro: Well, regardless, I suppose it’s a question I have to pursue further. Again, I advise not standing out too much, just to avoid unwanted attention from on-edge detectives. I must be going now Sakamoto-kun, have a good day.**

**Ryuji: yeah see ya**

Akechi finds himself skimming over old text messages as he hangs on one of the stability poles in a train heading for Aoyama-Itchome. His tongue still feels the burns of… the incident, yesterday.

_ You’re such a dumbass. _

‘How was I supposed to know that they would have a Russian roulette takoyaki?! I wasn’t even aware a Russian roulette challenge existed for takoyaki!’

_ With all due respect, thou’s stomach was rumbling something awful all day. Thou did not eat earlier... _

Goro sighs and pushes his earbuds further into his ears, his headache worsening but his psyche feeling more awake with the sound of guitar riffs and heavy bass. His phone is held close to his chest to hide the anime girl album art, particularly from the two Shujin clad girls that he knew were following him since two stations ago. The way they keep glancing at him, then each other, then whispering and giggling before starting the cycle anew... he'd seen it before and knows the pattern. He keeps an eye on in the reflection of the pole he held onto with one hand, more out of a sense of self-preservation than curiosity.

_ Speaking of girls, why don't you have one yet? _

'I don't need a girlfriend, Loki.'

_ Boyfriend then? _

'I'm not gay.'

_ Uh… You do know I’m you, right? I would know if we’re gay or not. _

_ The young master hast many things to uphold, Loki. A significant other wouldst just be another thing in our way. _

_ It doesn’t have to be a girl that he sees all the time! Romance is dead, we’re pent up, can we just get dicked down and call it good? _

'You're disgusting.' 

_ News flash! I'm you. _

_ Doth should not listen to Loki. _

_ C'mon! You're a damn celebrity! Can we just take a girl out one night or somethin’ - if you’re gonna keep me from doing shit, then at least listen to your damn urges! _

'If you actually cared about my urges, you wouldn't keep digging in and pissing me off. Speaking of your attitude, Loki. I don't want to hear anything out of you when we're around the phantom thieves, okay?'

_ Oh c'mo- _

'Not. A damn. Word. If the Phantom Thieves discover I have more than one persona because you couldn’t shut your trap? You’d best expect dire consequences.’

_ Fine. Have fun with Mr. Muscle Fetish. _

Goro’s choked gasp doesn’t go unnoticed by the people around him - they stare as Goro coughs, trying to get his composure together.

_ Thou will not be missed, Horny Zebra. _

_ Piss off, Hood. _

The train slides into the station and the sea of high schoolers in uniforms make way for the same destination as him - Shujin - and its school festival.

The entrance is as crowded as it was yesterday, black and red uniforms flood the first floor as Goro navigates the halls. He makes his way to the auditorium, noticing a familiar face with crossed arms and a slump against the wall.

"Good luck out there." Ryuji greets, tone blank and emotionless - unlike his usual boisterous attitude. 

So that's how it would be.

Fine. 

Goro could play that game.

"Thank you for your blessing. I hope I don't betray your expectations."

Goro continues on as Ryuji heads to the auditorium, both of them wondering how this will go.

* * *

The interview went... fine. Makoto asks intrusive questions that Akechi was sadly all too experienced in dodging to preserve his privacy as a detective, generic non-answers that were painfully neutral, celebrity detective speak. He has it all down pat - years of interviewing taught him what to say and what not to say.

The real pressure begins when he finally brought up that he knew the identities of the Phantom Thieves. The way the crowd jumps at his claim, the fear in Makoto Niijima’s eyes as she’s forced to press for further info, and he even catches a few of the members on the side of the stage, clammed above in the high rise area - and his eyes catch Ryuji Sakamoto among them. He couldn’t ascertain why his mind focuses on him in particular.

They all are probably whispering something about how he couldn’t possibly know who they are. 

He did.

All it took Akechi was a quick look into Okumura’s palace after the news of his calling card came to light, then observing the company that Akira Kurusu kept with him - plus a background check on each person to make sure they lined up with the targets of the Phantom Thieves. It’s painfully obvious when the evidence is all there, and he has a running theory that Sae was just acting stupid and pretending she didn’t know who they were. _ Especially _due to the fact that one of their members is her younger sister. 

He didn’t want to believe she really couldn’t piece it together.

Just like that, Akechi’s being guided to a faculty office after throwing the student body into an uproar. Makoto does that walk she does when she’s upset - he knew it well from how she would march into her sister’s office during his early detective days with Sae. The way her shoes all but slam with the wood, the way her limbs snap with vigor for every step. She really is a spoiled brat, he thinks.

She opens the door for him, giving him a look of death as he walks inside.

* * *

“Dammit! He had complete control over us!”

Those words bounce around in Goro’s head as he wanders the halls of Shujin academy, heading for the exit. He could hear them clearly through the walls, Sakamoto’s words as the rest of the phantom thieves leave the office. Goro’s already long gone by the time all of them get back into the hallways.

“Ah!” 

While his mind was elsewhere, Goro smacks into another Shujin student. The blue haired boy’s phone is automatically clutched to his chest when he flinches away from the impact.

“Oh, apologies. I should have watched where I was going.” Akechi apologizes. He doesn’t bother building up his full facade, the whole ordeal from earlier leaves him too drained for it. The boy blinks, suddenly realizing who he bumped into.

“Goro Akechi?”

‘Oh boy.’

_ Another fan? Our lucky day. _

“Ah, yes. I take it you saw the show just now?”

“Y-yeah… I did.”

Goro really doesn’t want to entertain anybody else today, but before he could think up a farewell to this Shujin student, the student speaks.

“Akechi-kun… what is your stance on the Phantom Thieves?”

What a weird question. Does he not watch the news?

“It is as I said on the news a couple of days ago. Their methods are unknown and are to be presumed ille-”

“What’s _ your _ stance?” The student breaks in. Goro doesn’t appreciate the interruption, but he understands it. He has been repeating the same intel regarding his thoughts on the thieves for a while... What was Goro’s stance on the Phantom Thieves of Hearts, anyway?

“...they’re criminals. They changed someone’s heart against their will.”

The blue-haired boy remains silent, glancing in Goro’s direction every once in a while.

“... sorry. Just… I dunno about the other people that the PT took out, but Kamoshida… They at least did right with that bastard.”

Kamoshida, the lecherous gym teacher that supposedly terrorized this school’s student body by abusing boys and girls in the sports classes he was involved in. It was despicable, beyond despicable. Goro knows this - despite it, Goro couldn’t sympathize with the passionate hatred for the man that this Shujin student has in his eyes alone.

“Why do you ask?” Goro questions. The boy hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. The gesture seems… familiar, for whatever reason.

“Some… doubt I guess.” He answers. “Regardless, no matter what people like you and those higher in power may say, the Phantom Thieves are just. You have to admit they do a hell of a lot to help people without a voice.”

“I never doubted that, Mister…?”

“Mishima.”

“Mishima-kun. Until I am sure of all the details of the Phantom Thieves of hearts, I cannot give a clear cut answer of how I truly feel about them. They have indeed done good for many people, those in bad relationships, those with abusers, those in a toxic friendship-” (Mishima flinches at that.) “I cannot call them harbingers of justice without knowing the Modus Operandi.”

“...yeah. Thanks. I just… wanted to know how you felt. Ryuji made it seem like you didn’t care about them.”

Goro blinks.

“You know Sakamoto-kun?”

“You know him?” Mishima parrots back. “I was in the same homeroom as him in middle school. Guy goes on tangents about how much he hates how cocky you are.”

‘He…’

_ Goes on tangents…?  _

“...It was nice talking to you, Akechi-kun. Sorry for taking up your time.” Mishima just nods and walks off, weakly trudging off into the hallways. Goro watchs him leave, then made for the entrance himself, moping more than before.

** _“Dammit! He had complete control over us!”_ **

_ ...Shouldst thou have said something to Sakamoto…? _

  
  
‘There was nothing to say.’  
  


_ Truly? _

‘Sakamoto is a phantom thief and thus, against the plan. Might as well be a stranger.’

_ Was he a stranger when he listened to our sob story? _   
  


Goro remains silent, inside and outside, cursing Loki’s nerve to go somewhere he shouldn’t have.

‘It’s been done. It doesn’t matter.’

  
_  
If you say so.  _

Goro makes for the entrance, glad to be rid of the halls of staring eyes and hushed whispers, and looking forward to filling out case reports over a cup of instant coffee and stale crackers (for once in his life). He has a diet to upkeep but god be damned if he doesn’t at least get a reward for his recent troubles.

“You’re a real damn prick, you know that?” A voice calls to him.

Goro freezes, then huffs as he turns to face the owner of the voice, meeting eyes with the same boy from before. 

Sakamoto.

_ Our prince in shining armor. _

  
  
‘Shut the hell up Loki.’

Goro pretends to ignore a whine from his persona as he readies up the best mask he could. He has to keep his presentation up, now more than ever.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.” Goro smiles, knowing damn well what Ryuji’s angry about. The betrayal, the blackmail, the threats - among many things. 

Ryuji wordlessly descends the stairs, which allows Akechi to see Ryuji’s holding two objects in his hands with his school bag balanced on one shoulder. One has Dorayaki, flattened like a pancake and most likely filled to the brims with a sweet azuki bean paste. While the other has a fish-shaped Taiyaki. It’s not an ice cream taiyaki like Akechi had seen so much about online, but his stomach growls all the same.

“Yusuke bought a bunch of em for art shit, I guess. Makoto gave me one of em but I ain’t that hungry. Want one?”

Goro’s brow creases. “Rather carefree after that little discussion, aren’t we?”

Yes, he wanted the damn Taiyaki. His diet sucks and can burn in hell. 

“You’re lookin’ too damn far into it. I’m just forking off some extra food on you. I hate watching that shit go to waste.”

_ Taiyaki… _

“I take that to mean you forgive me, then?” Goro jokes, half actually joking and half genuinely asking. For what reason… he’s not sure. Ryuji just sighs, holding out the Taiyaki, waiting for Goro to take it.

“No, no. It’s quite alright. I’m on a-”  
  


“Diet. Yeah. Screw that. Live a little - you’re at a school festival, man.” Ryuji shakes the fish-shaped bread, pushing it closer. “Hell, you’re a third-year, right? This’ll be your last one! Might as well, right?”

Goro only stares, between the golden flakey fish eyes and the chestnut brown ones that stare at his own. He… freezes, lost in the neutral, caring expression on Ryuji’s face. Wait, wh-

_ C’mon! We didn't eat anything, just take the damn Taiyaki. _

_ Accept thine’s food. It wouldst be rude to decline. _

‘Fine.’

Goro takes it, perhaps a bit too fast, surprising Ryuji and earning a short-lived chortle. He internally burns at the sound of Ryuji laughing at him as he takes his first rip out of the baked good, savoring the taste. He could moan.

Fuck his strict regiment. Life is worth living for fish bread.

“Look I’m… I’m mad about the blackmail, sure. Of course, I’m effing mad about that shit, but it ain’t what pisses me off the most...” Ryuji sighed, while Goro’s gaze was stolen from the food to the sad look on Ryuji’s face.

“And that would be?” He winced in anticipation of whatever Ryuji felt like throwing at him.  
  
“...you didn’t tell me you had a damn persona!”

Goro blinks. “Truly…?” He mutters, distracted from his bread long enough to realize he has crumbs on his face, wiping the crumbs away. He could have sworn the fact he just threatened Ryuji and his friends with going to the police with their identities would have caused him to lose a few of the brownie points he earned with Ryuji.

“If you forget the fact that you just… y’know. Did what you did? I’d have ya in a heartbeat. I wanna see what your damn persona looks like! I’ve been watchin’ all the others get theirs and now you got me excited! But you still just…” Ryuji clenches his fist, the one now holding his dorayaki.

“You’re just… _ such _ an asshole man! Seriously! You could've just asked us to help you out!”

“Erm… yes, well. This serves as insurance that the Phantom Thieves will comply with my goals.” 

“Insurance huh…? And what the hell are these goals that you’ve got?” Ryuji questions, biting into his snack. Goro does the same, tasting sweet paste stick to the roof of his mouth, much like peanut butter.

“Well, I’m the deal maker, am I not? I can’t disclose that to just one Phantom Thief Sakamoto-kun. It wouldn’t be fair now, would it?”  
  
“Such a damn prick.” Ryuji playfully knocks Goro with his elbow, descending the stairs ahead of him. Goro follows - or rather - they were both going in the same direction. Yeah.

Goro remains silent, same as Ryuji, who has a hand in one pocket, while the other was busy texting.

“How about this? Since neither of us are busy, I’ll buy you lunch to make up for it.” Goro proposes, earning a surprised look from Ryuji.

“Ain’t this lunch?” Ryuji holds up his Dorayaki.

“Not if you don’t want it to be.” Goro replies, unable to stop the smile creeping on his face.

  
  
“If you’re offering… let’s get sushi! I haven’t had sushi in forever!” Ryuji suggests, and his smile gets wider.

  
“Conveyor belt only.” Goro chimes in, unable to help himself.

  
  
“Wh-! C’mon!” Ryuji exclaims, before breaking out into a laugh. 

The two make off for the train station, snacks in hand as they chatter on the way out. Neither of them notice a boy in black scruffy hair and glasses catching sight of the two of them leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay on this chapter! Some IRL stuff popped up but we both want to get back to regular chapter updates soon! Thank you for your patience!


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